Are There Crocodiles In Honduras?

So, being a little bored while we waited for quite a time to get my yellow fever travel cert thingy, we decided to go tubing on the local river. With tubing not really being a big sport in La Ceila, Honduras, we went to a car tire garage and requested with gestures and a little effort, a couple of big inner tubes. We took the tubes to the river and inflated them over lunch with the under powered compressor we were now greatful for.

Taking a saunter up the valley on foot and to the confusion of locals seeing two giant tubes with legs, we went to the location of a previous camp and put ourselves in. Moments later we realised this was a mistake. Around the first bend there was a thunderous roar. Hastily jumping out the overinflated tubes we went ashore and inspected. It was around 200m (210 yards) of class 3 rapids lead-in into a canyon. After some deliberating, we carried the tubes to the canyon and jumped in. The ride down below was probably the most enjoyable way to experience rainforest. The next hour in lukewarm water drifting. In awe of the canyon the locals had not managed to monopolized but for whitewater rafting company that knew nothing of our presence, we decided to go back the next day.

 

Today- we grabbed our climbing shoes and a towel, chucking them into a drybag. Trying to wade down from above I instantly lost a flip flop. This was a disappointing start, while it wasn’t expensive, I loved that flipflop, now I have only one flipflop. With me hobbling over stones, we retreated to plan A, the first plan we made in the morning and certainly the more logical. Driving down below the canyon I put on some trainers we we set off a second time. We did a combination of canyoneering up the craggy riverside and swimming across the smoothest points and rapids.

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This was enjoyable, but I did wonder what lurked in the murky eddies. Having Karli swimming behind me, I knew she would go down first if there were crocodiles so I pushed on regardless, telling myself all the while crocs don’t like rapids anyway.

when we arrived at the canyon it started raining. We knew time was limited as the heavy downpour would quickly raise the river level make descending riskier.

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But it was worth the effort and refreshing doing something outdoors and wild.

Below is a pic of me taunting the crocodiles and giant boa constrictors in the most Usain Bolt way possible. Im sure my and Karlis’ survival is down to the wildlife being dumbfounded by our boldness swimming right in front of them. For now I shall remain skeptical of their existence.

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On a more serious note the birds were seeing on a daily basis are the ones I used to see on a David Attenborough wildlife documentary. Its pretty special to see so many brightly coloured birds I know nothing about. Macaws, king fishers , yellow ones, bluey black ones, some small ones; to name but a few.

P.S. Te keyboard is still broken but im tryin.

To finish the pic below was driving down some forest lane inhabited by disgruntled horses late night during a lightning storm. Its blurry but so was our eyes sight after 12hours of driving so you see exactly what I did. Enjoy!

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Honduras

Well, I feel awful, a combination of a week of Doxycycline, A yellow fever shot, and running a few miles in tropic heat. Its not all bad, although Karli is also feeling bad from the Doxy. I can’t wait to be out of here and living somewhere I dont wake to the feeling of wanting to pass out, but with heat beating down and humidity rising I am forced up.

We visited some Mayan ruins called ‘Copan’. The ruins were nice, but it was about 15 American dollars to enter, 7 to go into the tunnels, another 10 or so to enter the museum, where most the artifacts have been removed too, and a few more dollars to enter the culture museum. It felt a bit of a rip so we just entered the main site and left it at that. Central America has been pretty good at emptying the wallet at every opportunity. Walking around the carvings it soon became clear the big statues were all replicas except one they had not figured out how to replicate yet due to the intricacies of the carving. O well. It was a sunny day and there was also a good lawn to sit on. The ruins themselves are pretty impressive once you realise the scale of them after climbing the first pyramid.

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. Now, Honduras, Its hard for me to accept that to walk a footpath I have to pay 4 times the price the locals are asked to pay ($8), or pay anything at all for the mile or so path is to the waterfall we wanted to visit yesterday. At the cost of every attraction or bit of nature being high, I feel poor. Three nights ago we drove into the night checking prices of hotels along the way, 1200, 1100, 600 lempiras. Once again despite warnings not to drive at night we pushed though. Ending up at a rundown hotel for 500 lempiras, whIch we accepted, it was nice to have showers and a/c to sleep. The beaches are lined with properties and hotels willing to charge to be near the water, and most the national forest areas on the map seem to be mosquito infested with a second unidentified fly that has a bite similar. We drove  few lanes the other night and arrived at a beach area next to forest. After intruding on private land, the property owner, Winston, welcomed us to camp beside his house at no cost. It was nice to be welcomed somewhere. This gave a wonderful sunset and a few more mosi bites to remember it by. Last nights camp was on a river in its flood area, Stoney but flat. With it being near the end of the flood season we decided the sky probably wouldn’t rain and flood the camp so we pitched up. There were remarkably only on or two mosquitoes this night.

Today was my first run in a few weeks. It was hot and not all that pleasant, the first half all uphill. I would like to say it revived me but it didn’t. The swim in the river after however was pretty decent. Something that felt alive brushed my leg and made me question what might lurk beneath.

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The city a mile from camp is prettier comfortable, good coffee from  nice shop about $1-1.50. Other exciting news- I have a new pair of sunglasses, its the first time in month I have worn them without having to look at scratches. Bad news- the horrible box of wine we bought back at the very start of the trip is down to its last litre. Soon it will be no more. It tastes bad now.

Im kinda bored of writing now so will finish/edit this later 😉

 

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Getting A Yellow fever Vaccination On The Road In Central America

So, 6weeks ago I decided to join Karli on a drive to Argentina climbing along the way. For this I decided it might be worth getting anti-malaria tablets and a yellow fever vaccination since its likely I would be going to a few melting pot areas for all the nasty infections and diseases.

Now, big pharma in the states is known for charging a lot for prescription drugs and I do put a limit of the cost of my good health, so, proceed through the states without buying any. The plan was mexico for both. A week before entering Mexico I decided to try to get a price for the goods. I managed to find out that several Walgreens and walmarts with pharmacies could give a yellow fever vac at around 120-150dollars. And it is possible to get Doxcyiline, but the costs are kinda high and a consultation at extra cost is required, an eXtra 40dollars. My poor life isn’t valued that high, I’m a cost cutter. So against the usual kind of advice from wealthy practitioners saying don’t trust lower cost care, I achieved lower costs.

Now, in Mexico any pharmacy will sell you prescription drugs without a prescription. Which is great. In a small town I went into a pharmacy and paid about 20dollars for a 70 day supply of doxyciline. Which was the easy part.

Yellow Fever Vaccination proved a different beast. The pharmacies sent me to the hospitals, the hospitals sent me to the general public hospitals and on and on it went in every town and city along the way. After about 10 hospitals we found ourselves waiting to talk to a doctor. When he arrived speaking good concise English he slowly explained that the vaccination wasn’t normally available in Mexico, only an after care as it wasn’t genrally a problem in Mexico. He told us to wait till we are in El Salvador, Honduras or Nicaragua as it would be widely available there. He also wrote a note to pass to the next hospital to make it easier. “vacun fiebre amarilla”.

In Le Ciela, Honduras, we started looking for a hospital, the daily mosquito bites were a driving force. Into the firs hospital, they pointed us to the second. The second was rundown and looked closed, so we went to the third. In the third hospital. The ‘medico’ we were directed up a staircase. Up the staircase we were directed to a door. Inside the door was a receptionist and a waiting room. We asked for ‘vacu fiebre amarilla’, she invited us to take a seat. This seemed positive so we complied.

The receptionist informed Karli, who is now speaking pretty reasonable Spanish, that the doctor was on lunch break but would be back soon. An hour wen by and the doctor arrived. Again, like the last, the doctor speaks slowly and concisely in English. He informs us he can give the injection there and then, but for the vaccination passport/cert we would have to take a note to a different building Monday morning. After receiving the shot I proceeded down the stairs to pay. The shot cost approx 100dollars. Still cheaper that the states. All in so far its cost 100 for the yellow vac and about 20dollars for 70days of doxcyiline. Total $120.

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getting yellow fever vaccine

I feel this is a saving of about 120 to 150 dollars. roughly based on

130 for yellow, 70dollars for 70days of doxy, and a consultation at 40dollars. total $270. Win.  Now I feel fully prepared to strip naked and run through jungle laughing at the mosquitoes biting me in awkward places without the worry of half the tropic bacteria, fevers and nasties.

I will also add that while each of the many hospitals we entered were a little worn, they were very clean, being actively cleaned and mopped and the staff all very professional. All in the same as any trip to a western hospital.

 

Mexico Day 2 and 3

The second day of our Mexican journey was a lot of driving. We drove from half seven in the morning until around 7 in the evening. We made two stops for fuel and one for tacos. Ben felt the tacos were over priced-even ‘American in price’. But that’s only because his good friend led on that we would be eating only 8 cent tacos during our time here. But on that note, I’d like to mention that Ben refused food for the both of us throughout the entire day. I ate half a yogurt for breakfast while he enjoyed a stale cinnamon roll. My pleas for tacos throughout the day went on unheard until around 5pm when I finally held a pocket knife to his throat and forced him to pull over along with the rest of the traveling wagons. This is how we’ve decided to judge preliminary whether or not a restaurant will be favorable or not – is whether there is a gaggle of semi-trucks blocking our way in.

Anyways.

So we made three stops. Gas. Gas. Tacos. Our bodies were feeling sore at the end of the day. Not the kind we’re used to, where the muscles are sore from exertion, but rather from being confined to a small space for hours on end.

Our destination was a small city at the base of Pico de Orizaba by the name of Tlachichuca, and despite the both of us desperately wanting to be there by the time the sun fell over the mountains, we decided to aim for a small green patch on the maps which preceded the city by 90km. Upon arriving at the mysterious green patch on the map, we discovered our path barred by a barrier and a guard, almost military like. The guard approached us and introduced us to the national park that was hiding just beyond the gate, and let us know that we would be safe camping for the evening. He wished us a good evening and raised the barrier.

The winding dirt road eventually led us to find a quaint little camping spot for us to enjoy a pot of noodles accompanied by old sauce and a can of tuna. Only one mosquito bite later, and we were bundled up in the tent.

Day 3

The day began with thick cloud cover, left over dew, mossy trees outside our mesh windows, and Ben’s continued ranting over Reeces’ promised 8 cent tacos. As I took solace in the last few minutes with my sleeping bag, I was interrupted by Ben’s manly, high pitched, screams. Maybe I should have been more concerned, but instead I took my sweet time wiggling my shoes onto my feet before I leaned out the tent to make sure he wasn’t experience extreme blood loss. He wasn’t. He just hit himself in the head with the tent poled, blaming the moisture for his accident. (ben- it really was a slick pole)

We left camp without breakfast, and high hopes to find a spot in Tlechichuca where we could prop open the portable stove and boil up some oatmeal. Pleasantly, after winding our way down the opposite side of the mountain, we were greeted by a brightly colored Sunday market. After a few laps up and down the street, we found ourselves the proud new owners of a bag of spicy peanuts and hot potato chips. We ditched the idea of oatmeal when we came across a couple of ladies serving up tacos across from where we had parked. We were delighted to find out, after our meal, that our tacos and mystery drink had only cost us 13 pesos-about 75 american cent.
We left the market and continued our journey toward Orizaba. About an hour later we found a pharmacy where Ben was able to procure an anti-malarial for the next couple of months of our journey. They were cheap (about 30 dollars for a 70 day supply) and hopefully not counterfeit. Only the next few months will tell.

Eventually we found ourselves in Tlachichuca and again, tempted by the Sunday market they had going on. This one was large enough that there was a police presence to direct the traffic and had a good friendly feel. We bought a deep fried fish with chilli powder and lime, a corn on the cob (elote) with butter, cheese, chili powder, and lime (this disgust me but Karli loved it) and ice cream to finish with some nice notes of lime and coffee. Walking around the market I couldnt help but notice i was taller than everybody else and had to stoop continuously under the tarps shading the stalls.


We departed the market and drove up the volcano. The road started well and finished poor. The mighty subaru cruised to half way on the rutted mud track but the last 2000ft of trail are steep and so far evading us. Karli gave it a whacking great try rallying up the way, till a sharp turn and steeper terrain suited to 4x4s with low gears and knobbly tyres stumped us. The car told us it was not happy with a great deal of smoke from the clutvh. We have backed down to a flat area to regroup and work out a plan of attack on the remaining 6500ft of ascent.

Our campsite this evening is an abandoned village composed of 4 decomposing cottages, a common bathroom, and some sort of lookout post. Still trying to decipher what this area was used for (ben thinks cartel post due to the watch tower, but then again, Ben thinks everything is cartel), once upon a time. I sat up in the lookout post for a bit while Ben traipsed around, discovering whatever there was to be discovered. The echoing sound of a dogs bark accompanied us for the greater portion of an hour until Ben finally decided to locate the howls. He stumbled upon a shivering and scared pup sitting at the bottom of a 10ft hole. After a few moments he shouted for me to come over.

After a few moments of discusion and with the hole being muddy we unbolted the roof tent ladder and dropped it down. Karli put on a thick jacket and padded gloves and descended. The dog was cold, scared and snappish. She spent a about 15minutes gently stroking it to calm it down, we dropped a towel over to warm him and a short while later Karli picked him up and carried him up the ladder. The poor fella hunched for a few minutes berfore first slowly getting up and walking a few paces, then a little quicker, then he ran. The last we saw of him was a small speck bolting down towards the village. Not ever a thanks (but thats ok).

We are now collecting rainwater with the help of a small roof and a tarp sheet.

 

Day 1 of Mexico

This is the second crossing into mexico. This time there are lots of concrete bollards and loud buzzers and soldiers, we get waved into a booth to be quickly searched before being let in. Immediately in the next town there are police and soldiers in the street armed with loaded automatic weapons. The plan is to drive a couple hundered kilometers (120miles) past the border to safer areas. Inside Mexico, a lot of friendly faces.

Trying to find somewhere to camp we drove into a village in the hills, drove through slowly with locals standing in the road looking at us, then turned around at the end of the village and drove back out. It was slightly embarassing. In the end we stopped yesterday behind a restaurant where we purchased two sodas and sweet bun for the equivalent of 2 US dollars. We asked the restaurant if we could camp around the back. Louis, a local boy didn’t speak any English indicated we would be fine and guided us to a small patch of scrappy grass. He kept us company in silence for a majority of the night after we offered him a beer. Ignoring health advice not to pet animals in mexico we befriended a dog that I named Hero, on multiple occasions he tried to leap in the car.  Hero slept behind the Subaru after we climbed into the roof tent and kept us safe throughout the night by barking away any intruders (or so I presume, he could have just been barking. Because he’s a dog. Maybe there was a squirrel. But I insisted on giving him bread and praising him for unknown tasks).


I bought a cappuccino from the gas station this morning. Not sure yet if the water it was made with will be good or bad, but I’m sure time will decide, I feel lucky. It’s nearly too sweet to drink, so I stole Karli’s drink and used that to wash down my grossly dry sweet bun.

We’re still undecided if we should be tipping the fuel service attendants for filling us up and washing our windshield. This isn’t a service we request but they don’t give us a choice in the matter.

Karli has been practising her Spanish. I have been persisting with sign language. She seems to be nearly conversational in the language, but I couldn’t say for sure. She could just be making up the words for all I know but it seems convincing.

We had one encounter in which the roadside police waved us over for, presumably an inspection. Once we were to the side of the road they waved us to continue on. Not sure if it’s the language barrier that changed their mind, or something else entirely. Mabe they just don’t want to take the time to deal with us Gringos.

Still no sign of any cartel, but that being said-we don’t really know what the ‘cartel’ would look like. Still searching, hope to befriend them soon.

Acute Mountain Sickness And What Makes A Sucessful Trip

After backing down from 12,500ft in the Subara which didn’t quite have the power to go up the volcano on the 4 wheel drive track, and having a nights rest we descended to one of the lower villages knocking on doors to find the local guiding company that could give rides up to the mountain hut. I will admit Karli’s Spanish was more useful here than my charade/ hand signal language. Eventually descending right back to the valley bottom we were directed after several attempts to the mountain guides hotel. We asked the owner Roberto for a lift to the hut for a summit attempt. He gave us a great price of 1600 dollars (Mex) which is around 80 US dollars for a ride up to 14,500ft(4420m, taking around a hour or so), ride down back to 10,000ft, clean water and an extra camping mat for in the hut. This is just out of the tourist season for the peak which starts in a couple of weeks after the rainy season. The ride up was rough, the mud trail we drove down in the morning was a raging torrent of washouts and collapsed road sections getting bigger by the minute. Half way up at one of the guides houses in a small village we changed to a beautiful old maroon jeep. The kind of machine where you hear two whacking great chunks of metal smash together when engaging 4 wheel drive mode. The part of trail that stopped us originally on our attempt was more impassable with water raging down. We were glad we descended when we did in the subaru, this was definately too much for the traction control, road tyres and low ground clearance. The guide told us its normal rain for this time of year. At one point stopping the vehicle to hack tonnes of mud to create a smooth run down into a dip where previously was a road. We arrived at around 14,500ft about 5pm in the afternoon feeling good for our summit attempt beginning midnight. Quickly prepping kit, preparing the evening meal-ramen and packing bags for the early depart. Karli wasn’t enthusiastic about eating the Ramen which made me slightly concerned because a lack of appetite up that high is not good. But to be honest I wasn’t overjoyed at the thought of them either. But we did have a big box full of it we bought back in the states so it had to be used. At about half 6 we went to bed ready for our midnight ascent.


Now, for the past weeks I had been going on about Altitude sickness to Karli to the point she was sick of hearing about it and didn’t want to know. I think this changed just before setting off at midnight when I became aware she wasn’t sleeping, had a cracking headache, and felt like she was going to vomit. To partially quote her, ‘Worst hangover Ever’.

We had been talking about this mountain for weeks. We had waited a week for my package and a few extra days for Karli’s package to arrive with the sole purpose of Orizaba in mind. We had been waking up to stare at it’s snow covered peak for the last few mornings. To get there and not even start the hike to the glacier was slightly disappointing, but AMS be AMS and you can’t fight the right decision for safety.
The journey here was fun, through the laughter and anger and smoke of trying to force a car up a muddy high altitude dirt road. Of filtering tarp rain water into a small pot and waking up with wet pillows and Karli’s deliciously prepared pancakes, making fools of ourselves trying to speak Spanish in a game of charades.  There was so much more to this adventure than the mountain that was staring back at us.

We went into this mountain knowing we were close to the limit for acclimatising, the past week we slowly camped higher, the previous week had been spent around 5000ft. then 7000ft, 9000, 9000, 10,000, 12,000, and finally 14,500 (the hut height), which was a 6hour stop before a dash to the summit and descend back to 10k. We hoped to have longer but with nearly 10days of delayed equipment and being stuck near the US border, the time was gone. We went in with the knowledge a turn back was likely.

Karli seemed much better by the time we reached 10,000ft, though the headache persisted for a while. Roberto had a full breakfast of three courses waiting for us when we arrived back at the base and kindly let us use his hotel showers.
On any climbing trip the safety of the team comes first. Altitude sickness can hit anybody, no matter how fit or carefully acclimatised. There are a few basic rules – If you have symptoms, don’t go any higher, If you have symptoms, descend as soon as possible. If someone has symptoms, do not leave them alone. Symptoms- lack of appetite, headache, nausea, flu like. They progress to confusion, drunken like behaviour, eventually unconsciousness and can lead to death if not handled promptly. The only way to stop the symptoms is to descend. The worst part is it’s silent, and gets worse with time so stealthily it’s hard to notice. descending even a couple thousand feet can reduce it.
It’s a reminder of just how frail the human body is. Change altitude by a few thousand feet too fast and it can kill us. The standard advice is above 8-10,000ft (the point at which sickness usually begins) ascend at a rate of around 1000ft per day, and every 3000ft have an extra days rest. If possible, hike high, sleep low.

I don’t care that we didn’t make the mountain top, this was a cracking sunrise and great fun meeting locals on the mountain. And we are both down ok.

Yellowstone, lightning, Tetons and Bear

So I decided to take my Yellowstone Alternate just because its there. It felt pretty counter intuitive to cycle 16miles north (the wrong direction) and to voluntarily climb over the Continental Divide and extra 4 times, but, I did. The park itself is beautiful. Spoilt only by the constant stream of cars and rv’s tearing down the road from one gift shop to another like in some chaotic ritual, I had to escape the madness. They seem to stream from one gift shop to the next to get a meaningless stamp in a book and buy another ‘genuine’ gift from China. Met a few cool people on bikes around here. I had an easy day into the park and another easy day out deciding it would be better to go to the Tetons. One more lightning storm cycled through, if you check the pics carefully you can see one of the bolts.  Im currently based at Jenny lake (though writing this in Starbucks in Jackson due to the very generous allowance of seats, power and wifi).

I met Harry and Roelie (she calls her self Rachael to make it easier for everyone). A lovely couple from Holland cycling north. I started yesterday knowing I had to sort some form of ice axe and crampon for my next endevour, I will climb the South Teton and Middle Teton peaks. I woke, cycled 5miles to breakfast, then about 15miles to the campground, then 7.5miles downhill to the town of ‘Moose’. From here I checked my bank balance to discover to my horror that I had not been a victim of card fraud, but overspent somewhat, so i can say goodbye to the chance of buying a house anytime soon. After arranging for my friend to send some kit to the local UPS; I cycled 7.5miles back up the hill, where I sat and thought what can I do with this delightfully empty day. After twiddling my thumbs for a while, along came Harry and Roelie. They announced they were going to the pub and invited me back down the hill for beer. A few pints later after an enjoyable afternoon we cycled back up the hill.

This morning i could hear some thumping about in the trees, presuming it was Harry in a drunken I felt obliged to check he was ok. As i came closer to the noise maybe 100m from the tents, I started to recognise the sound of a bear foraging. I ran back to the tent, grabbed the camera, and slowly approached. The noise was down the bank to the lakeside and i could hear it slowly moving along. I decided in the most inadvisable way to head it off further along. So a went ahead and waited. I now have a kind of cool vid of the black bear approaching. It was in a dip behind a downed tree and as it rose up, spotted me about 20 meters away, and scarpered off. A great way to start a day. I wonder what it is like for bears to be in constant fear of the thousands of people hiking and cycling around these parks.

Tomorrow i can collect the ice and and crampons and get ready for my thursday ascent. Followed by sprinting the following day to Atlantic City to meet Justin for a cycle across the 120mile Great Divide Basin. Bring on the next few days!!!