Antigua, Guatemala to Antigua, Guatemala (via Belize)

When our mothers long term friend caught wind that we would be visiting Antigua she wasted no time in offering us her house. As we got closer to the city and the details of the arrangement began to surface we knew we were in for something very, very special. However, the rumors did not come close to doing our experience justice.

When we arrived in the city we were welcomed by the house manager, Denis and his wife, Jazmin. The two did everything to make us feel right at home. Fracesca, arrived on the second day and prepared our absolutely phenomenal meals. We were so spoiled during our week in Antigua that I'm almost embarrassed to report on our temporary life of luxury. The juxtaposition of our life day to day never ceases to amaze. One day we will be looking for solace in a road side ditch and the next we will be in five star accommodations with a personal cook. I am so humbled and thankful for these displays of generosity.

On our first morning in Antigua over a breakfast prepared by Francesca the three of us casually mentioned to Denis that we all love a good cup of coffee and the next thing we knew we were whisked off, touring the areas most renowned coffee plantations and processing centers. Denis blew us away with his coffee knowledge and provided us with an amazingly informative trip. We got the full back-of- the-house tour, where we were able to see the process from start to finish and talk to some of the employees.

Months ago when our friend Peter mentioned that we should meet up with his parents in Guatemala City for their new restaurant grand opening, I was sceptical that the stars would align once again and put us in Guatemala City at the exact same time as the opening; however, both Parker and I remained optimistic. Sure enough, our timing worked out awesomely and we found ourselves enjoying dinner at Tres Fratelli in Guatemala City with Peter and Anna discussing the following days grand opening.

We attended the grand opening for Frisco Grill. The private party was held for family and friends and we felt honored to be included among the crowd. It was absolutely surreal to sit in a restaurant in Guatemala City and to be surrounded by photographs and memorabilia depicting our hometown. The ambiance and food were both nostalgic not to mention excellent! That night we met one of the restaurant owners who casually told us that he would be setting up an interview with one of the biggest stations in Guatemala for the following morning.

The next morning we woke early to meet Peter and Anna who planned to accompany us to the interview. As if it wasn't enough that Peter and Anna had a restaurant opening to contend with they both decided to support and transport us to the interview. Anna even stood in as our translator to make sure we did not blunder on any of the questions.

Despite the fact that Peter had chosen not to advertise the opening of Frisco Grill we returned to the restaurant after the interview to find a packed house. Apparently the word had gotten out that the brainchild of the Guatemalan favorite, Tres Fratelli had something else up his sleeve. Before we could say our good-byes Anna told us that she would be contacting all of her friends through Central America in order to set up places for us to stay. How did we get so fortunate?

Before catching the bus to Puerto Barrios we even caught our segment on the news, which apparently aired a number of times over the next week. Puerto Barrios is somewhere you definitely don't want to spend anytime and the only thing notable about this town is that it provided us with our worst hotel room to date. I'd say the blood handprints on the wall were a good indication of the quality of the establishment.

The trip to Puerto Barrios was uneventful and reminded us how much we have grown to love our bikes and the slow mode of travel they provide. Riding by bus, completely separates you from the environment and the trip becomes more about the destinations rather than the journey. I felt kind of like a Fed Ex Package. Unfortunately, our boating and rafting plans in Belize made bringing our bikes extremely undesirable. Our experiences on some of the small boats made us thankful that we decided to leave our monsters behind.

Tarpon Caye Lodge

Parker and I have blundered into so many things that have worked out so well in the end that it has left me suspicious that there aren't as many accidents in life as there appear to be. It's tantalizing to think that we have ended up exactly where we were supposed to be. Our trip to Tarpon Caye Lodge had us both feeling like we ended up in exactly the right place.

We met Charlie the in the late morning in Placencia and joined him for the hour boat ride out to his private Caye, appropriately named Tarpon Caye. Once on the island we had a few minutes to look around and get settled before we started to rig up our rods for an afternoon session on the water. It was immediately apparent to both of us that we were in for something special. Maybe it was Charlie's wisdom and personality, maybe it was the fact that we had our own private island, maybe it was the fact that we were choicely positioned in some of the best flats waters in the Carribean or maybe it was a combination of all these that made us confident that our stay would be memorable.

Any scepticism about the presence of tarpon was dismissed in the first hour an a half when Parker and I hooked into two and landed one beautiful fish. We were even able to capture some amazing Tarpon aerials on film. Did I mention that we were a two minute boat ride from our room?

That evening we let the Tarpon rest and went in search of permit. Within the fist hour we were casting to our first fish. We had some excellent shots at these fish but we both went to bed that evening thinking we could've made better casts. Casting to permit is like taking a freethrow to win the game with one second on the clock. The pressure is always on, you have one shot and if you miss your chance you replay the scenario over in your head a thousand times. God it is addicting.

The next day we woke early to hit the flats while the tides were coming in. Within the first hour or so, I had hooked into and landed my first permit. It was no world record fish but one of the most satisfying fishing experience of me life. The permit photo was featured as Pic Of The Day on Wild On The Fly’s website, http://www.wildonthefly.com/content/pic-day?vid=282&pageid=11. No more than a half hour later Parker hooked into an even better fish that screamed off line until it was able to wrap the leader around some coral and break the leader. If there is anything more frustrating than blowing a cast, it is breaking of a nice fish after you have done everything else correctly.

Shortly thereafter, Charlie looked at his watch and realized that I still had time to obtain the infamous “grand slam.” So within a few minutes we were off to track down the only fish that had alluded us so far...the bonefish. True to form, Charlie had us on a huge school of fish within about a half hour and next thing I knew I was watching a bonefish pick my fly up off the sand.

Our fishing techniques are inventive and sometimes unorthodox but I'm pretty sure I blew the staff away when I swam out to the edge of a drop off, fully clothed with fly rod in hand to dislodge a snapper that had gotten wrapped around some coral. I was also able to employ a new technique of using my sunglasses as goggles by just submerging the lenses. Sometimes I surprise myself with my own genius. Chris almost wet himself when Marlin pulled the boat up alongside me and they realized that I was treading water.

The night before our third and final day of fishing a powerful cold front rolled over the Caye. We again went in search of permit early in the day but despite our efforts we were not able to hook into any fish. That's not to say we did not have plenty of chances. We had the opportunity to watch numerous permit approach our flies..literally touch them with their noses and then turn away, every time trying to stay relaxed enough to control our bodies from trembling in anticipation. We had to turn back to the Caye when the tide rolled in enough so that we could no longer track the permit tails.

We changed up our rods for heavier setups and headed back to chase Tarpon in the cove in front of the island. With only about an hour left to fish, my skepticism started to creep in about the possibility of hooking another silver monster. With just three minutes left in his turn (Parker and I were taking 30 min turns) Parker strip set into one hell of a fish that immediately started performing aerial acrobatics. Watching the video still gives me shivers. Even after over an hour and a half the fish was still jumping. Parker finally brought the fish up alongside the boat after nearly an hour and forty minutes. After a quick photo we released the fish. Absolutely awesome finale to a perfect trip. Our first and last hours at Tarpon Caye were spent landing tarpon.

We can't thank everyone at Tarpon Caye enough for their generosity in sponsoring our trip. As we told the staff, we will absolutely be back to create more memories with these awesome people. I've guided and been guided by dozens of people and Charlie is one of the best.

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We returned from Tarpon Caye, to Placencia in order to meet our favorite ladies. Eliza, Liana and our awesome mother made the trip all the way from the states to spend 8 days with us. After a harrowing, night drive through the dirt roads of Belize the ladies arrived in Placencia unscathed. To celebrate this special occasion we rented a four bedroom villa on the lagoon in Placencia complete with a roof top pool. The house provided a perfect place to relax and drink mom's infamous Mai Thais in preparation of our pending action packed adventures.

We departed Placencia and made the beautiful trek to Ian Anderson's Caves Branch Lodge where we had arranged a room for a night and a river tubing trip through a 7 mile cave. We arrived at the fairytale lodge in the mid afternoon with just enough time to explore the immediate jungle and cascading pool.

The next day marks a new trip highlight. The tubing trip absolutely exceeded our expectations and the caves were more majestic (not a word I typically throw around) and beautiful than I had imagined. The pictures do a decent job of translating the awesomeness of the caves, light, water, and the contrast of the creeping jungle at every opening.

From caves branch we headed directly for El Remate, Guatemala where we set up camp for the following days trip to Tikal. I won't spend too much time describing the ruins because I am sure someone else has already done it better and because this is something I think everyone should see for themselves. I'm not sure you could even over hype Tikal because no description can prepare you for the feeling you get when you first arrive at the base of these massive structures set among such dense jungle.

From Tikal we spent the afternoon in Flores, Guatemala and enjoyed some cocktails while watching the sunset on Lake Peten Itza.

We awoke early the next morning in order to make the trek back to Belize City. We accompanied the ladies to the airport where we said our goodbyes and then jumped a boat to Caye Caulker where we reunited with Chris. Unfortunately, we were unable to find him and the hostel he was staying at was full. After searching many of the remaining hotels and hostels we finally found a place with vacancy and got some much needed rest. The next day we explored the island and headed out to find a fly shop that supposedly existed to get some info on fishing the area. The fly shop was closed but we did find Chris sitting on a bench waiting for us as he knew we would eventually show up. We returned to the shop multiple times before we left Caulker but the shop was never open. Caye Caulker is a very mellow island that was a great place to hang out before heading back to Plecencia via sailboat.

We decided to use a tour company called Raggamuffin which runs a 2 night and 3 day sailboat tour from Caye Caulker to Plecencia stopping at 2 remote cayes. We were very excited to get back on the water and do some fishing and snorkeling on some very beautiful reefs. The idea of the tour as well as the places that we stopped was excellent and we had a great time hanging out with the other people on the trip. The only negative aspect was the crew who ran the trip like a elementary school summer camp. The captain had one of the worst cases of “small man's complex” I have ever seen. The very first day Seth and I got scolded like we were 8 years old for snorkeling too long and venturing too far from the boat. We were hoping that guy was just having a bad day but it soon became apparent that he needed to be the center of attention and have full control of everyone on the trip at all times. We were very happy to arrive at Rendezvous Caye where we would camp for our first night and have some time to ourselves. We would not be so lucky as the captain decided he would tell stories and jokes around the campfire for hours on end. Unfortunately, the caye was so small that we could not escape the sound of his voice without the help of our new friend and one of my favorite people that we have met thus far on our trip, Sir Alrich. Alrich is the keeper, the emperor, and king of Rendezvous Caye and lives in his “mansion” by himself for months at a time. His “mansion” is a small concrete and plywood room that has everything he needs to survive including a stove, a bed, and a single 50 watt light that runs off of a car battery.

As we approached the island we could see that there was someone walking around who quickly disappeared. When I inquired about the figure to the captain and his crew they assured me that the caretaker of the island was antisocial and that he would not want to talk to us. Once again the captain could not be more wrong. When I saw the same character immerge from his dwelling later in the evening I decided to test their judgement and approach the man myself.




Within minutes Parker and I were in a full blown conversation with Alrich and next thing we knew we were being invited back to his “mansion.” During his MTV cribs style tour of the place, Alrich made a point to show us his water bottles full of rum, his 50 watt light bulb, his grill made from an old propane tank, his FM radio, his bed that also acted as his dresser, and his depleted pot stash of which he says he goes through about ½ pound a month. The guy was nothing short of amazing. If that wasn't enough, Alrich let us in on the fact that he has “smashed” exactly “two hundred and terty seven” women. Never mind the fact that he is only 20 years old! When we asked him how he accomplished such a feat he let us in on his little secret.

So here it is... when you are in a club or bar and there are a number of girls around you not paying heed simply expose some money from your pocket and scratch it in order to create a sort of money arroma. When the girls smell and see the money they won't be able to resist and “the bitches will come runnin.” If it gets really bad you may even be “fighting those bitches off.” I'd say it's only a matter of time before Alrich lands his TV show.

When a huge yacht pulled up next to the island the following day and dropped of some spedo clad euro divers from Monaco, Parker, Alrich and I approached the driver of the 30' transportation skiff. The deckhand could not talk about his current employer but informed us that he used to work on Paul Allen's 450' yach and that when the fuel tanks went empty it cost over a million US dollars to fill them up again. To this Alrich exclaimed “Paul Allen mus make like ten times my salary.”

Before leaving Alrich gave us some more insight into his life and his daily activities. He usually dives off the west side of the island for conch and lobster which he stockpiles for weeks of consumption. It is not everyday you meet someone who says they are sick and tired of eating to much lobster. He also introduced us to all of his friends on the island including his flock of sandpipers which he knows each one by name as well as his arch nemesis, Larry. Larry is a hawk that Alrich said he used to be cool with until Larry swooped down and stole a a snapper that he had caught which was all spiced up and curing in the sun. He looked the hawk directly in the eyes and said “You know what you done Larry. I'm gonna get you for that shit.”

Please know that the opinions expressed here are not those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect reflect the positions of anyone besides Sir Alrich. These details have been included only to paint an accurate picture.

It was tough to part ways with our new found friend and get back on an overcrowded sailboat with our bad vibe producing captain but alas we had no choice. Later that afternoon as we approached our snorkeling spot and the sailboat engine gave out one last cough before finally crapping out altogether. This wouldn't be much of an issue on a short journey but the Raggamuffins rely on the help of the engine to make the voyage to Placencia in three days. Trying to maintain his composure our captain assured us that a mechanic would be visiting our boat that night to make the necessary repairs. Given our remoteness, we had our doubts.

The next morning we awoke to find a large crowd on the boat messing with the engine and making quite a fuss as to what should be done. It is important to note here that the mechanic could not be located the previous night which is quite odd on an island the size of a city square block. It wasn't like the guy had gone to the movies or out for a drive. When we approached the boat we could see that that the mechanic was so drunk that he could barely form words had to hold onto the tiller at all times as not to fall in the water. What's more is that he was still drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette directly over the oil and gasoline soaked engine. The seen was truly priceless. Needless to say the engine was not fixed and we departed a few hours late with only the use of the sails. The captain informed us that because we could not use the motor we would be skipping the snorkeling trip that day in order to make it to Plecencia before night. As much as it sucked to miss the snorkeling it was very nice to be sailing without the noise of the small outboard. It was not until late into the afternoon that one of the crew started to make lunch which took close to an hour and a half to prepare tuna fish sandwiches. It was during this time that Josh, another client on the trip who had a few run-ins with the captain, asked the crew if maybe they should put up the other sail. I thought the captain was going to throw him overboard. Later when all 16 of us were informed by the captain to sit below deck in the cabin, I mentioned that it looked like one of the Florida bound Cuban boats you see on the news. Josh replied, “Yeah but they usually have much nicer boats and I hear the food is way better.” As you can imagine the captain was thrilled with this comment.

We finally arrived in Plecencia and said our teary goodbyes to the Raggamuffin crew and found a spot to get a good nights rest before our long day of traveling back to Antigua the following day. We caught the first water taxi the next morning at 6:30AM and did not arrive in Antigua until 11:30PM. The day included 2 boat trips and 4 buses including one broken down bus before we finally arrived in Antigua. It was to late to contact Dennis that night so we stayed in a hostel and hooked up with Denis the next day at Anne's Guatemalan palace. I repaired my wheel and we are ready to take off today for El Salvador. While I was searching for a shop to build my wheel I learned of a girl that just started cycling in Guatemala and was desperately looking for some cyclist to travel with as her partner fell in love with a mechanic in northern Guatemala and decided to go no further. So we are happy to welcome Tracy who will be riding with us for unknown amount of time.

Back in Antigua, Guatemala

After an action packed month of travel through Belize we have arrived back in Antigua.  A few highlights include, fishing trips, cave tubing, women, sailboating, interviews with the Guatemalan news, a restaurant grand opening, not to mention a trip to the ruins of Tikal.  There are so many events and misadventures to cover I am a little overwhelmed. Nonetheless, I have started to write and upload pics. It's hard to Belize this segment of the trip has already concluded but regardless we are very excited to begin the next leg. More to come...

Zihuatanejo, Mexico to Antigua, Guatemala

We had not yet properly explored the nightlife in the Zihuatanejo and Ixtapa area so we were not sure what to expect for New Year's Eve. We figured we should catch a cab and check out Ixtapa first, as that is where the majority of the resorts and people were staying on vacation. To our dismay, there was not much going on in Ixtapa except an empty club charging a 800 peso cover charge. We made an immediate decision to turn around and head right back to Zihuatanejo. This turned out to be a good idea as we ended up having a great time at some of the small local bars. The next day we all took it pretty light as this was our first night out in a long time and we needed our rest to prepare for the arrival of Mr. Jeff Urton. Jeff, and his entire family, was coming in by way of San Diego via a Carnival cruise ship the following day. Coincidentally the cruise ships drop anchor directly in front of the bungalow we had rented and would run constant shuttles to the fishing pier. This made it very easy to find Jeff on the morning of January 2 and rapidly begin an action packed day of sightseeing and cerveza tasting which we completed by 6PM so Jeff could catch the last shuttle back to the ship and not get stuck in Mexico.

With Jeff gone and only a couple days left in Zihuatanejo we began packing up our stuff and reorganizing all of our gear to incorporate all of the items that Eliza had muled down for us from the US. The night before we left we found a local theatre that was playing the new movie, Avatar, which we had heard so much about. It appeared that the theatre had seen better days but we were pretty excited to see a movie. While buying my ticket I was astounded that they could even make a profit by selling admission for only $2. This mystery was easily solved. The first seat that Seth tried to sit in disintegrated under him and he blasted through the bottom of the chair and hit the floor. Once we finally found seats that appeared to be structurally sound the movie flashed on without any advertisements, previews or even opening credits. Actually, it appeared that their copy of Avatar did not include the first 10-15 minutes of the movie. It also became apparent that the movie was a very poorly made bootleg version with indecipherable audio. All and all it was still pretty good, even though we had to read the Spanish subtitles to understand anything the characters were saying.

The next day we were sad to say goodbye to Eliza but really looking forward to getting back on the road after a very long and relaxing break. However, before we could go anywhere we had to clear up a few things with Mexican immigration. Ironically, Seth and I had been traveling as illegal aliens for the last 2 months and were at risk of being deported if we continued south without the proper documentation. We had not intentionally been traveling illegally, we had just never been checked or stopped at any of the military checkpoints including the US/Mexico border in TJ. After hearing a story in Zihuatanejo of a couple of Americans that were deported in Acapulco, we decided we should get our Visas. We arrived at the immigration office at 10AM when it opened and did not leave until 2PM. The immigration office is like a Mexican version of the DMV that does not have the authority to accept the fees that they charge to obtain a Visa. Instead, they require that all payments be made directly to a bank and then return with multiple copies of the receipts along with copies of every page of your passport and other documents. We completed all of the necessary paperwork, found a bank to pay the fees and fines of traveling illegally for the last 2 months, found a copy store, got our Visas and were finally on our way. Even with our extremely late start we were able to make it to the beach we had hoped to camp at that night, Playa Pompanoa. Pompanoa is a very relaxed and authentic little beach that has a couple palapa seafood restaurants located right on the edge of the water. We decided we would treat ourselves to a dinner at the nicer looking and more crowded of the two establishments. After talking to the owner for a while he insisted that we stay the night in his restaurant where he had a number of large and very inviting looking hammocks. We accepted his offer and got an excellent night of sleep on the beach. The following day it soon became apparent that the terrain was changing for the worse which included some tough riding and limited options for camping.

The entire stretch from Zihua to Puerto Escondido was relatively uneventful with very little interesting scenery and not much to look forward to at the end of the day. Two or three times during this stretch we found ourselves camping in what we call “roadside ditches”. Being fairly self-explanatory, these spots are characterized by their close proximity to the highway and their popularity as both a roadside garbage dump and roadside toilet. Of course we never plan to end up in these spots but sometimes we simply run out of daylight and have no other option. The bright side here is that these less than glorious nights make the nights we spend on pristine white sand beaches all the more enjoyable.

The next major city we passed through was Acapulco which I would rate just a small step above a “roadside ditch”. We were thoroughly prepared and warned about Acapulco so we did our best to pass through as quickly as possible which turned out to be painfully slow. There is a very steep and long climb on the southern side of the city that we ascended during the hottest part of the day. This turned out to be a terrible decision as it also turned out to be the busiest time of the day and we found ourselves maneuvering through traffic in a thick cloud of smog as we climbed for over an hour. It also didn't help that we had each inhaled an enormous portion of fried chicken just moments before the climb. When we finally reached the summit of this urban pass we agreed that all things considered this was one of the hardest climbs to date. For the remainder of the day we pushed as far away from Acapulco as possible and called it quits in San Marcos. We got a much needed hotel room which boasted two beds and what can best be described as a shower/toilet/sink. The benefit of a shower/toilet/sink is that you can take a shower while shaving and sitting on the toilet. Similarly, the consequence of this arrangement is that you must sit on the toilet while taking a shower. The hotel even had a pool in the courtyard so we were happy to throw down the $15 for the room.

The next night we made it to Playa Ventura which we found to be very similar to Maruata. As we loved our time in Maruata we also became very big fans of Playa Ventura. We stayed for one night at a very mellow little seafood restaurant on the beach that allowed us to camp under their palapa after purchasing an early dinner. The food was excellent and the shelter was greatly appreciated as it lightly rained for most of the night.

The next day we pushed another big day to Pinotepa Nacional and paid for yet another hotel room. Pinotepa was a pretty rough town and our hotel room conveniently came with an armed guard that stood outside our door all night holding a shotgun. The following day and last night before reaching Puerto Escondido, we stayed in a small co-op fishing village on a lagoon about 8km off the highway. In addition to fishing, many of the pongeros subsidize their income by running tours to Chacahua and a few nearby beaches only accessible by boat. The fisherman allowed us to camp under the palapa they built at the beginning of the pier. It was a beautiful place to camp and if it wasn't for the intense dog fighting taking place all around our tents it would have been perfect.

We finally arrived in Puerto Escondido the following day and set out to find a place to stay for the next day or two. We knew there were a few inexpensive hostels in town but we wanted to try our luck at one of the nicer establishments before settling. This decision turned out to be quite rewarding as it resulted in meeting Dan, owner of Hotel Dan. Dan saw us riding past his spot and immediately stopped us to see if we needed any directions or information. We inquired about a room at his hotel which was actually made up of extremely nice cabanas but he had no vacancy.

After suggesting that we try a couple other spots Dan offered to buy us lunch at his cafe before we moved on. Before we even finished our meals Dan hurried back into the restaurant to suggest that we just camp next to his pool. He informed us that all of the people that stay at his spot are of the adventurous type and would have no problem sharing the pool area with a couple of touring cyclist. We soon found that this could not be closer to the truth. Everyone staying at Dan's place had been coming to Puerto Escondido for years (some of them for over 20 years in a row). Before Dan's place existed they had come to PE and camped near the beach.

Living poolside, we had the privilege of meeting almost every guest staying at the hotel. There was Danny, a former smoke jumper from Idaho. David, an avid cyclist who had biked all over the state of Oaxaca, Jerry from Minnesota, Pedro, and our good buddy Mitch, a professional photographer from Chicago. Mitch even dragged us out of our tents at 6:30AM to take some shots of us with our bikes down on the beach. We want to thank Mitch again for giving us these photos as it is very rare that we get any good photos with both us present in the shot.

All of these guys love to have a good time to say the least, and we accompanied a few of them to their favorite bar called the Rockaway. This is a small spot that this group and their friends have effectively taken over. They play loud American music and the bartenders drink more than the patrons if that is even possible. They introduced us to the local favorite of coffee infused mezcal and insisted that we try the drink every possible way that they serve it so we could fully appreciate the moonshine-like drink.

At that same bar we met a number of Americans that were in PE on vacation. We met Sarah, Matt and his girlfriend from Chicago and a girl named Dana from Boston. We hung out with these guys for the remainder of the night and further explored the infamous nightlife of Puerto Escondido. We learned that Dana had already postponed her flight 3 times to extend her vacation in Mexico. This place certainly seems to have that affect on people. It also turned out that Dana had a beautiful home in a nature preserve on the point overlooking the beach and town. She invited us to stay at her place for the remainder of the trip and we could not be happier that she did. Much thanks to Dana for her hospitality.

After postponing our own departure date twice we eventually got back on the road and headed to our next destination, San Augustanillo. The ride was tough but we arrived early in the day and found an incredible beach side palapa to camp under for the night. The remainder of the day we spent exploring the town and beach and even got to take a few casts off the rocks in the evening.

There was a big festival going on in the neighboring town of Mazunte so all of the shops and restaurants were closed. We decided to pass on the festival as we were still recovering from our 4 days off in Puerto Escondido. With a great night of sleep we exited San Augustanillo early in the morning and headed for Barra de la Cruz.

About 20 miles short of our destination we were very surprised to see a familiar orange VW bus pass us with Amelia hanging out the window yelling at us. They pulled over at the next pullout and we were very happy to be reacquainted with our Australian (and American) friends from Barra de Nexpa. After a brief conversation we found out that we were headed for the same spot and planned to meet up at the beach. Barra de la Cruz turned out to be a beautiful white sand beach that was almost completely deserted save one small restaurant. There was a good looking point break that was a relatively well kept secret even though it attracted the annual “Secret Spot Surf Contest” four years ago. Camping on the beach in La Cruz is prohibited so we all stayed at a nearby bungalow/hotel. Seth and I camped under a palapa while everyone else stayed in the bungalows. That night we met Jim who was returning from Panama on his motorcycle. Jim's time line was just slightly different from ours as he was on track to complete his journey which started in Detroit down to Panama and back to his home in Detroit in just 6 weeks. Just that morning he had come from the middle of Guatemala.

The next morning we said goodbye to Amelia, Jimmy, and Dillon once again and headed south to face the infamous isthmus of Southern Mexico. We had been warned by many people in PE of the ferocious winds in this stretch and heard stories of semi-trucks getting blown off the road. Sure enough we were not disappointed as we battled some extreme cross and head winds for the next three days. However, I think that we ultimately lucked out as we later heard from a cyclist that was a couple days behind us that he was ejected off his bike multiple times while trying to traverse the isthmus. He said that the winds were so strong that he was forced to walk in certain areas and even watched as his fully loaded bike was ripped out of his hands and cartwheeled down the road. It is never a good sign while cycling to see windmills scattered across the landscape as far as one can see in every direction.

Leaving the windy isthmus was a bit bitter-sweet as it meant that we had approached the long climb to Tuxtla Gutierrez and San Cristobal. However, we found that entering the state of Chiapas was a very welcome change in scenery and climate from Oaxaca. Before we got very far we approached a bridge that had been blocked by protesters. They were not allowing any vehicles to pass and it did not look like they were going to be leaving any time soon. Trucks and cars were backed up for miles in either direction so Seth and I decided to get some lunch and discuss our options. After lunch we decided our best and only option was to approach the roadblock of protesters and ask if they would allow us to pass. We told them that we supported their cause but that we must push on to the next town before the end of the day. To our surprise they were happy to let us pass but not before drilling us with a thousand questions of which we did our best to answer. They even let us take some photos and video and wished us luck before sending us on our way. As we passed the long line of cars and trucks on the other side of the bridge we did not receive the same support as the drivers yelled at us for being allowed to pass while they were forced to wait. We later learned that this blockade and protest went on for days with no vehicles being allowed to pass the bridge.

The climb to Tuxtla Gutierrez took us two and a half days of climbing through incredibly beautiful scenery. It was amazing to go from tropical beach weather to an arid mountain climate so quickly. In just a couple days we were surrounded by pine trees and below freezing temperatures at night. We did find some very good camp spots during this stretch including camping on the top of a highway embankment which had an incredible view of the mountains. We also found out that our friend Chris that we met and stayed with in Fairbanks, Alaska was flying into to Tuxtla to cycle with us for an undetermined amount of time. When we were staying with him in Alaska we told him that he should try to meet up with us somewhere along the trip. His response was to warn us not to tempt him as he always takes a trip south in the winter to escape the dark days and minus 60 degree temperatures in Alaska. About a week earlier I had sent him an email informing him where we would be and our plans moving forward. Sure enough I got a message from him about two days prior to arriving in Tuxtla that he would be flying in on January 21. We found the name of a hotel in a guidebook and planned to meet there at 9:30PM. To our and Chris's surprise we both made it to the hotel on time without any problems whatsoever.

We took the following day off to take a guided boat trip up the Sumidero Canyon. We had gotten the heads up on this trip from Seth's friend, Justin Dodd, and we were happy that we did as it turned out to be a worthwhile experience. In addition to seeing monkeys, crocodiles and some exotic birds the canyon walls were over 1000 meters high in some areas.

The next day which was also Chris's first day on his bike in months was one of the more notorious climbs of this entire trip. The climb from Tuxtla to San Cristobal is a constant grueling 70km of which 45km is a hill with absolutely no level or down hill terrain whatsoever.

Seth and I finished the climb around 4 in the afternoon and Seth decided to wait in the town center in front of the Cathedral for Chris while I found us a room for the night. While I was searching for a room I once again ran into Amelia and Dillon and decided to get a room at the hostel they were staying at.

I went back to find Seth and learned that Chris had still not arrived. When it got dark we decided we would find an internet cafe and just leave Chris an email and hope that he would check it when he arrived.

As it was my birthday that night we all decided to go out and see what San Cristobal had to offer. We had a phenomenal time and even found Chris back in the room when we got back early in the morning. We spent one additional day in San Cristobal exploring the town and visited the large market where we stocked up on food and supplies.

The ride out of San Cristobal included a long descent and good push to Comitan where we would spend our last night in Mexico. We found this very cute little hotel with beautiful little jail-cell like rooms and freezing cold communal showers. Seth and I both had to put down our Therma-Rests on top of the mattresses because they were harder than most of the grounds we have slept on. But we were happy to have a place to stay as it was very cold and windy and all things considered we got a good night of sleep before hitting the Guatemala border.

After a very long and very hot 80km ride to La Mesilla, we finally reached the gates of the Guatemalan border crossing. When we entered the immigration office we were immediately turned around and told to go back down the 4km hill we had just climbed to get our exit stamps at the Mexican border. When Chris arrived I told him that we had to go back down the hill he just finished and I think I actually saw a tear roll down his cheek. Luckily, Ed, a British cyclist we had met the day before, had just gone through the same hassle and said he would look after our gear while we took a taxi back to Mexican immigration. The process was fast and painless and within 20 minutes we said farewell to Ed and pushed another 15km into Guatemala to the town of Camoja Grande.

Within the first 15km of Guatemala a significant change in culture was immediately evident. From our very first night which we knew that we were going to love our time in this country. Everything is extremely inexpensive and the people are very encouraging and friendly. There is a buzz of activity that is not present in much of Mexico as Guatemala is very densely populated. From the chicken busses to the traditional Guatemalan dress everything is vibrant and very colorful. The food is perfect for cycling with generous portions of cheap beef, chicken, and pork served with rice beans and thick tortillas. Our second night in Guatemala was spent in a highway town on the turnoff to Huehuetenango. Our third night we made it to San Francisco Al Alto. San Francisco Al Alto is a incredibly unique little city sitting high in the mountains at about 9000ft of elevation. Needless to say the majority of our time spent in Guatemala thus far had been long days of climbing.

To enter the city proper of San Francisco Al Alto we had to climb a very steep 18-20 percent grade hill to the city which has incredible views of the surrounding valleys and mountains. When we arrived on Thursday night the streets looked like a ghost town and we had a tough time even finding a restaurant that was open and serving dinner. Seth had read in his book that the town was the garment capital of Guatemala and held a huge clothing and furniture market. We thought that the book must have made a mistake but to our absolute astonishment we woke up the next morning to find the city completely transformed. Starting at the bottom of the incredibly steep hill and extending all the way up and through the city was a sea of people, clothing, furniture and street vendors where just hours earlier there had been nothing.

We thought that after 3 days of straight climbing that the ride to Lake Atitlan from San Francisco would be relatively easy as there was a significant overall elevation drop. Instead we started the day with yet another pass which dragged on unmercifully for over 20km. Chris found it very ironic that he had traveled thousands of miles to escape the miserable sub-freezing winter of Fairbanks yet he was now struggling to summit a cold and dark 10,000 foot pass that the Guatemalans call Alaska.

Because of some mechanical problems Chris had with his bike earlier that morning, we all got a very late start and Seth and I barely made it to Panajachel on Lake Atitlan before dark. Unfortunately, Chris was forced to sleep on the floor of a restaurant that he found just before dark about 25km north of the lake. Fortunately, Chris arrived the next morning just before we were heading out to catch a boat to Santa Cruz on the other side of the lake. Before we left we found a bike shop in Panajachel where Chris got some broken spokes replaced and his rear wheel trued. The total cost of the repairs including parts and labor was $2!!

With Chris's bike back in tip top shape we caught a boat to Santa Cruz and checked into the Hostel Iguana. Hostel Iguana is located directly on the lake is comprised of a number of private cabanas and general dorms.

All the cabanas were full so we claimed three bunks in one of the open air elevated dorm rooms. We had gotten the tip on this place from Danish fellow in Panajachel who has lived on the lake for 15 years. He informed us that there was to be a big party at the hostel as it was Saturday night. When we arrived we learned that every Saturday they throw a big bbq and have a cross dressing party. They actually refused to serve people at the bar unless they were dressed in drag. They even dedicated an entire cabana to storing rediculous costumes for everyone to create their outfits. It was hilarious to see travelers from the age of 18 to over 60 years old dressed in drag. Seth looked divine wearing a summer dress while sporting a Tom Selleck magnum PI mustache. Chris had nice little nurse outfit while I went for some daisey dukes with a sequin top. Good times.

Our next stop will be in Antigua followed by Guatemala City then Belize. Times are rough.

Pebble Pedalers Featured in the Winter Edition of Trout Magazine

"Trout Magazine is the quarterly publication of Trout Unlimited, America’s foremost coldwater fisheries conservation organization. TU is also our nonprofit partner on the ride. TU boasts 135,000 members and 500 chapters across the country. Trout’s mission is to provide engaging, informative conservation information the members and prospective members."

The Article is featured in the Pocket water section of the magazine and begins....

"Last summer, two brothers began a 17,000-mile bicycle odyssey to draw
attention to and raise support for protecting the Bristol Bay watershed from
the Pebble Mine—the largest proposed open pit mine in North America. The
mine would be built in Southwest Alaska’s Bristol Bay near the headwaters of the
Nushagak and Kvichak, two of the most productive salmon-producing rivers in
the world.

The brothers, Seth Berling and Parker Berling, began their journey in July and
will ride through 15 countries—from Prudhoe Bay, the northernmost point accessible
by road in Alaska, to Tierra del Fuego, the southernmost tip of Argentina.
Their trip, which is supported by TU and various gear companies, is expected to
take more than a year....."

If you are interested in becoming a member of Trout Unlimited visit www.tu.org and if you are interested in learning the latest from Bristol Bay or want to learn how to help us take action against the Pebble Mine visit www.savebristolbay.org

Brief Update from San Cristobal de Las Casas, Mexico

We arrived in the high mountain town of San Cristobal de Las Casas yesterday afternoon. The near freezing nights are a huge change from the sweaty, sticky tent camping we were doing just a few nights ago.

A guest rider has joined our ranks and has provided us with non stop entertainment since his arrival in Tuxtla Gutierrez. Little did he know that his first day would include a 30 mile 6500ft ascent into San Cristobal. More to come about our guest rider in our full blog update that Parker is diligently working on. From here we have about a day and a half of mountainous riding to the Guatemalan border town of La Mesilla. The three of us are very excited about the next chapter of our journey (i.e. Central America).

On a side note.....

It's come to my attention many a time thanks to my friends astute observations that I have a knack for spacing out. In a party, at work, or in a concert I can easily loose myself in thought. The tell tale signs include a blank stare and glassy eyes. You can only imagine while riding my bike for hundreds of hours I am able to enter new depths of “spacing out.” These episodes sometimes lend themselves to ridiculous unconscious actions. On the road Parker and I make it a habit to point out obstacles to each other. Whether it be a heap of dirty baby diapers, broken glass or a decapitated armadillo we make an effort to point it out to the person riding behind so they can maneuver their bike to avoid the mess. On 6 occasions now, after Parker pointed out a road hazard, I've pointed it out this same obstacle to the “ghost rider” riding my draft. This is the same rider I've turned around to verbally warn about large areas of broken glass.

2 days ago I set a new personal “space out” record. Let me start by saying that on any given day we wave to one hundred to two hundred mexicans who are either standing next to the road, throwing fistpumps out their window or yelling indecipherable phrases to us from the inside of their houses. So two days ago while I was in the middle of some serious thought regarding the number of red trucks I'd seen that day, I momentarily snapped back into reality, when I noticed a cow standing close to the edge of the road. You're probably thinking that I made a mental note of the large animal and entered back into my dream world. Nope. I sat up and waved to the cow and I swear to god that for a millisecond I was expecting it to wave back. To top this my initial embarrassment was because I thought the cow was going to judge me for expecting him to wave. When I realized what I had just done, I looked around to make sure no one was watching and tucked back into Parker's draft.

Puerto Vallarta to Zihuatanejo, Mexico

During our last day in Puerto Vallarta we did a radio interview with UDG 104.3 that lasted nearly one hour. It was a really fun interview, filled with extremely creative questions. We are still working on rounding up a copy.



The same day as our radio interview we conducted 3 presentations at the American School for the 8th, 9th, and 10th graders. We spent time informing them of the pending mine and possible devastation and sharing stories and photos from our trip. As we walked through the schoolyard to leave the campus a group of 5-10 year olds surrounded us. These kids know how to ask questions. At one point a girl came up to me, tugged on my shirt and asked me if our bikes would take us to different planets. Most people ask very common questions so it was fun to see how simplistic yet imaginative these kids could get.

After taking a solid week off the bike to gorge ourselves at the Aureguy’s house it was a bit painful to get back on our leather saddles and pedal up the massive mountain that looms just south of downtown Puerto Vallarta.

Craig made a last minute decision to borrow a friend’s bass boat and meet us on Lago Cajon with his son Mateo for some large mouth bass fishing. After a 100km uphill battle we were able to get out fishing on the lake the first evening. Within about a half hour Parker hooked into a sizable fish and our expectations for the trip escalated. We changed locations and Meteo (who has one bad ass casting arm) hooked into a monster. The fish exploded on his chartrues plastic worm as he dragged it across the surface and I thought for sure the fish would pull him into the water. To our amazement, Mateo hoisted this thing into the boat. From the photos it is pretty obvious this fish is about half the size of the little man.

That night we camped on the shores of the lake and at one point Craig asked Mateo, “Would you rather be at home, in your own bed, listening to your mom read stories?” “Yes! Duh,” Mateo said matter of factly. Some nights when we are sleeping in roadside ditches I feel the same way.

The next day was much less eventful and despite Craig’s determination to locate fish we only hooked into a couple. That afternoon we parted ways with Craig and Mateo, hit the road, and ended up in a camp spot that had me wishing I was listening to Barbara read some Roald Dahl.

The road conditions vary drastically along the route from Puerto Vallarta to Zihuatanejo. At times we found ourselves screaming along at 18mph on a flat highway with a sizable shoulder, at others we were winding up 16% grade climbs on small mountain roads with no white lines or room for bikes. Baja required a quick, defensive cycling, learning curve and since then we have worked to adapt to the roads of Mexico but we often find ourselves daydreaming about the solitude we found up north. I have a feeling we have more solitude to come and then we’ll be yearning for some of the craziness we’ve found here.

On a particularly hilly day we found ourselves at the top of a very impressive lookout with a picture perfect view of our campspot at Playa Las Brisas. We found complete solitude on this white sand beach and would highly recommend this beach to fellow travelers. From this beach our, next notable destination was the infamous Maruata.

Christian, the crazy German cyclist, who we rode with in British Columbia and who at the time of our meeting had been traveling for almost 2 years on his bike, had recommended Maruata as one of his favorite beaches of the entire trip. This beach has been highlighted on our map for months. Upon our arrival, it was very obvious why Christian fell in love with the place and ended up staying for 2 weeks. It has an extremely laid back vibe. If you order food it might show up in an hour of maybe not at all. We were stunned by the fact that many of the locals display little to no interest in making money. We both agreed that we were glad to be on a time schedule to get to Zihuatanejo because we could easily end up like the leather skinned gringos who landed on Maruata 30 years ago in their VW buses and never left.

From Maruata we made our way to Barra de Nexpa. This is another beach, which wore a circle on our map. This is a place we could spend a few days. For a sleepy surf town, this beach appears to see a fair number of Mexican and foreign tourists. When we arrived a group that spotted us out of the window of their VW bus a day prior immediately approached us. That night we shared a dinner of fresh fish, shrimp ceviche, and had some great conversation. The group consisted of Aussie’s, Mexicans, Americans (the United States kind), Canadians, an El Salvadorian and one very angelic baby.

Zihuatanejo has exceeded our expectations. Despite the fact that it has become somewhat of a tourist town it still maintains an old town feel. There are plenty of excellent cheap places to eat, everything is within walking distance, it has a fantastic open-air market and there is excellent big game fishing just a few miles off shore.

On Christmas day, Ed Kunze, a local fly fishing legend, donated his time and resources to getting us out on the water for an incredible fly fishing trip. This marks the first occasion that either of us have targeted sailfish on the fly. Ed is a leading proponent on the Guerrero coast for sportfish preservation and the only fly fishing guide that we have been able to track down for the last 3000 miles. Ed has spent nearly 14 years in the area perfecting his techniques for both roosters and sailfish. He fully outfitted us with top of the line gear and put us onto some amazing water.

On an uncharacteristically slow day with Ed we were able to raise one sailfish to the teasers, which we were not able to bring within casting distance of the boat. Zihuatanejo was rated as the 2nd best place in the world to catch sailfish and I am sure that if we spent another day with Ed we would have more opportunities to hook one of these awesome creatures. Ed went above and beyond the generosity of any guides that we have fished with to date. If you want to find sailfish on the fly in Zihuatanejo you have to contact Ed. http://www.sportfishing-ixtapa.com/flyfishing.htm

Months ago I received an email from Melinda Peterson asking me where we would be over Christmas. She mentioned that the Peterson family was looking for a great place to spend the holidays. After not speaking with her for another month or so, I got an email letting me know that they would in fact be staying in Zihua during the exact same time as us.

John, Marry, Betty and Melinda treated us to an unbelievable Christmas dinner, showered us with gifts and then to top it all off they invited us out on a charter fishing trip. The three of us showed up at the docks at 6:15 and were excited to get back on the water after our day with Ed Kunze. The boat was everything you would expect from a top end charter trip. Swivel chairs, shinny white decks and lounge chairs, premium rod / reel setups, and a cooler full of Corona. This is much different from most of the fishing we have done on the trip but so fun in it’s own right. We hooked up on some nice Bonita almost instantly and for the next hour, these missile shaped fish kept all of us occupied as we searched for something bigger.

I thought it was odd when I looked over and saw Betty curling up on the lounge chair. Next thing we knew a tidal wave of seasickness hit Betty, Melinda, and John. As the sea swells increased it became obvious that their situations were not going to improve and we made the decision to head back to the dock. If anyone reading has been seasick you can appreciate this decision.

When we got to the dock, the Peterson’s placed their feet onto solid ground and the captain asked if we would like to go back out for a couple more hours. Of course we accepted. We restocked the cooler and headed back out to sea. Just as we all began to dose on the lounge sofas, the sound of a screaming drag ripped me to my feet. I jumped onto the rod and next thing I knew I was sitting in a swivel fighting chair battling a 100+ pound sailfish.

What a phenomenally amazing animal. This fish performed aerial acrobatics for us and put up one hell of a fight until I finally got it to the boat. The next thing that happened is something that I wish I did not have to report on but something I feel is absolutely worth mentioning. As soon as this fish was brought up to the side of the boat the deck hand repeatedly clubbed it over the head until the fish ceased to live. Anyone that knows Parker and I know that we are strictly catch and release fisherman especially when it comes to big game species. This was unbelievably painful to witness and something that we both thought was against regulations in Ithaca / Zihuatanejo waters. These are magnificent animals that have seen a dramatic decline in numbers in the last 15 to 20 years as a result of a number of factors (one being over fishing / long lining). When we questioned the captain about his decision to kill the fish he told us that it had been hooked deep in the gills and would not have recovered. We are not so convinced. Either way, the fish was sold as soon as we got to the dock. Had we known, we both would have fronted whatever cash the fish would have brought at market. This experience left us with a bitter taste and unfortunately this is something that happens every single day in Pacific waters. Our fly fishing guide, Ed Kunze, is doing his best to educate local fisherman about resource conservation and he estimates that kill numbers of sailfish have declined nearly 80% in the last 10 years. This is a great step in the right direction. The photographs highlight the brilliance of this gorgeous fish and we’ve included them to help our followers appreciate and understand our concerns.

On a lighter note, as I prepare this blog we are preparing for our big New Years eve out on the town. Truthfully, it will likely be mellow but who knows. We would like to again give special thanks to Ed Kunze, the whole Peterson family (best Christmas ever), our parents, Maximo (the Banana Boat King of Zihuatanejo), the Aureguy’s!!!! and our friends for all their support. Happy New Year!

If you would like to see photos from this segment of the trip click here:

http://www.pebblepedalers.com/photos/show/72157622971297111

Loreto to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico

We were a bit sad to leave Loreto but we were really looking forward to getting to Magdalena Bay to do some more fishing. Everyone that we had talked to both in the US and Mexico had told us that Mag Bay offers some of the best fishing in Mexico. Unfortunately, we were informed and reminded time and time again that road from Loreto to Mag Bay is terrible. It did not take long for this information to be validated as we approached a number of long switchback climbs on a very busy and extremely narrow highway.

We were gaining elevation for the majority of the day and ended up camping under a huge electricity standard which kept us out of view of the road. The next day was a much easier ride as we enjoyed descending back down to sea level and heading west to the Pacific coast. We arrived in Magdalena Bay in the early afternoon and were pleasantly surprised to hear that Steve and Art were on their way to meet up and fish with us. Seth and I explored the town of Lopez Mateos while we waited for the guys to arrive and met some fisherman from California that had towed down two boats and an RV. They gave us the fishing report and we decided to get a room at the hotel they were staying at which turned out to be the only hotel in town. I realized that this was the very first hotel room that we had paid for on the entire trip. We decided to just go crazy and pay for the incredibly expensive room which came out to about $17 a night. We actually needed a room to lock up our bikes while we were out fishing the next day it worked out well.

After we had our lodging taken care of we went in search of a boat that we could charter the following day. We had heard that there was an American named Bob that owned some boats and a guiding service out of Mag Bay called Mag Bay Outfitters. The guys from California told us how to get to his house and Seth and I decided to pay him a visit. Fortunately, he wasn´t very hard to find as he was standing outside his house with a Mag Bay Outfitter´s t-shirt on. We introduced ourselves and explained our ride and what we were doing and Bob was very excited to get us out fishing in one of his boats. After thinking that the only boat we could afford would be a ponga, we were very surprised that Bob was offering to take us out in his 26-foot deep Vee hull cruiser. This boat is a very good and comfortable boat to fish on and significantly better than ponga fishing. We made a deal (which was very generous on Bob´s part) and agreed to meet at the pier at 9AM. As we learned, the most important element of fishing Mag Bay is the tide. Being out on the water at the break of dawn is not as important as being on the water when the tides are moving.

We left the pier at 9AM sharp and headed for the north end of the Bay. As we were leaving the Success, a long range boat from San Diego, pulled up showing off a very successful trip. Steve and Art were both gear fishing so we hit up a shrimping boat on the way to get some live bait. This is one of those rare occasions where the bait actually tastes better than the fish you are catching with it.

When we arrived at the north entrance of the Bay, our guide put the boat about 40 feet off the mangrove shore and suggested that Seth and I make some casts while he rigged up the gear rods. It took us less than 5 casts each to hook up on our first fish of the day. We caught so many different species of fish that day that I would be lying if I claimed to remember what kind of fish they were. As soon as the captain had rigged up the gear rods he backed the boat out of range of the mangroves and over one of his favorite holes. In this area the fish were holding way to deep to reach with our flies so we grabbed a pole and put on some live bait. All four of us were hooking up before we could even get the bait to the bottom. The fishing was pretty much stupid and we caught more cabria, pargo (snapper), grouper, corbina, and bass than we could count. After a couple hours of bait fishing Steve and Art were courteous enough to allow us to move to some shallower water so we could get some more fish on the fly. The captain had taken fly fisherman out before so he knew some very good spots and got us into some really nice grouper and sea bass. We all finished the day very content fisherman and want to thank both Bob and our captain for making this possible. We highly recommend visiting Mag Bay Outfitters website http://www.magbayoutfitters.com/ and contacting Bob if you have any interest in visiting the area.

We still had another day to kill before heading to La Paz and catching the ferry to Mazatlan so Steve suggested we throw the bikes in his truck and head north to San Juanico, a small fishing and surf town. We were very stoked on this idea as we had heard great things about this spot but could not include it in our route because it was hundreds of km´s off the highway on terrible dirt roads. The two guys who got us the yurt in San Ignacio had actually just come from their property in San Juanico and said it was a place we had to check out. The ride out there was interesting to say the least and I can tell why this place, which has one of the longest waves in the world, doesn´t have huge resorts all over the beach. We had to cross two separate rivers where the roads had been destroyed by the hurricane and endure many miles of terrible dirt and rock roads. The trek was more than worth it as San Juanico is one of the most incredible places I have ever seen. It is a small town on a calm bay in the Pacific Ocean with about 6 point breaks that produce the longest wave that I have ever seen in person. While I was there the swell was small and I was told that the wave I was seeing was about 1/6 of its normal size when there is a decent swell. We heard many stories guys catching 1.5 - 2 mile rides. This is a place that I most certainly plan on returning to with a board after this trip. Seth and Art did get out and catch a few waves in the kayaks.

The next morning we made the haul back to Insurgentes where Steve dropped us off and sent us on our way south to La Paz.

It took us two days to reach La Paz and after spending an hour trying to find this RV/Campsite I had the idea to give my buddy Anno Buich a call who I knew kept his boat in La Paz. Luckily he answered my call and informed me that his boat was docked at the Marina I was calling from. This was quite the coincidence as you can imagine there are quite a few marinas in La Paz. He generously extended us an invitation to stay on the boat and within a few minutes we were chillin aboard the 52 foot yacht with a cold drink in hand. Not to mention the fact that the boat had AC and 3 full cabins to sleep. La Paz is a great city and this was a perfect last night before leaving the baja peninsula the following day and heading to mainland Mexico.

Parker's shoulder is sore from our second round of Hep A shots so I am taking over.

The next day we hopped on the ferry to Mazatlan for a 13 hour haul across the Sea of Cortez. The ferry was relatively empty so we had no problem claiming an entire row of seats to sleep on. Other than the screaming child in our cabin the ride wasn´t too painful.

As we rolled down the steep ramp leading from the ferry to the dock we were overwhelmed by a very new sensation. Within minutes of exiting the boat our clothes were soaking with sweat and the humidity. The ground was wet from a recent rain and it was all too obvious that the 13 hour ferry ride had taken us into very different place. As we navigated the metropolis of Mazatlan, it began to lightly sprinkle. This was all pretty weird because we had not seen the slightest hint of rain in well over a month.

In Baja we ran into an English bloke who was in route from Buenos Aires. He said that if we planned to stay alive on mainland Mexico, we should head directly to the Carterra / Autopista (the toll road). Not willing to gamble with those stakes, we took heed and quickly made our way to the toll road. Our brief experience on the non toll 15 confirmed the rumors. As we made our way through the outskirts of Mazatlan the sprinkles turned into a light rain. Within minutes the rain turned into a downpour. Every passing car showered us with large clouds of water and every overpass provided us with a temporary shelter, while we devoured food or wrung out our spandex.

There were a few things that we realized quickly about the toll road; there are no services (ie. No water or food), there is a huge shoulder to ride on, and nowhere to camp and the landscape had transformed from arid desert to dense jungle. These two realizations proved to have interesting consequences.

As the rain continued to pour, Parker and I pushed on. As it started to get dark we began the routine hunt for a campspot. Just like magic as we crested a small rise, a potential campspot emerged among the dense foliage. Old roadwork had left a large gravel area adjacent to the roadway that we ended up calling home for the night.

It poured all night. We woke the next morning to more rain and just as we accepted the fact that we were going to have to put away wet gear the clouds dissapeared and the sun emerged and wow did it get hot. The temperature soared and Parker and I both noticed that we were collectively carrying three bottles of water. Unfortunately, the lack of services forced us to budget those three bottles for 70 miles to Rosamorada. Having to budget water in hot weather has got to be one of the worst feelings. On a side note...Parker and I had a 4 course lunch in Rosamorada that cost $3.75 for the two of us.

Being the proactive map reader that I am, it came as no surprise to figure out that the distance markings did not match the carterra km markings. I made the executive decision to exit the highway on a small dirt path that lead to the non toll hwy 15 (aka hell highway). Imagine riding on hwy 37 in California if there was no divider, the lanes were 5 feet narrower, there was no shoulder, and 50 percent of the autos were semis. Yes it's that bad.

Upon our exit from the Carterra, We immediately descended a large hill..which is never a good thing when you're not confident about your direction. After traveling a couple of miles I started to have serious doubts about my decision to leaving the highway. We pulled over to enlist the help of some locals. Man, its tough to get accurate directions from non cyclists. Everything seems to be just a few km in “that direction.”

A number of our blogs have referred to the map reading disputes between us brothers. Believe it or not, this is one of the few things we argue about. Being the clever guy that he is, Parker has resorted to a new technique to avoid conflict in these situations by not carrying any maps whatsoever.

So after an hour of riding back and forth on the hell hwy we finally realized our mistake and we were on our way to San Blas. With about 20 miles to go we pulled over at a small Abarrotes and noticed a road crew taking an afternoon siesta under a tree. As we enjoyed some cold drinks in the shade the crew waived us over and asked us if we wanted to share their Camarones (shrimp) lunch with them. We graciously accepted and before we knew it, someone had purchased a round of beers.

To return the gesture Parker and I bought another round of beers for the crew. Next thing we knew someone bought another round and then another. Most of the road crew left to return to the job. However, the two senors driving the street sweeper stayed behind to continue the festivities. As we decorated the table with empties, my linguistic skills drastically improved and the reality of us getting to San Blas that evening set in. The number of beers on the table are a visual indication of our ability to ride away from this event.

You can imagine how surprised Parker and I were when the two got back onto the street sweeper and peeled away onto the highway, with one of them perched on the back flagging off the oncoming traffic. Those guys are nuts!

Long story short, we ended up camping at the grocery store owner's ranch directly across the street.

The next day we pedaled a hilly, windy, thirty something miles into the small coastal town of San Blas. We made a few rounds over the small towns cobblestone roads in search of a place to stay. As we headed out towards the beach we caught sight of the Stoner's Surf Camp. The funkiness and simplicity of the camp immediately appealed to us and after a brief discussion we pulled in to get a bugalow.


After a relaxing day on the beach in front of the camp, we decided to extend our stay for an additional night.

The next night we camped on Guayabitos, just forty miles short of Puerto Vallarta. It absolutely poured rain all night and when I woke up at 4am I was laying in at least 1.5 inches of standing water. We rolled up our wet tents, sleeping bags and just as we were about to leave the owner of the RV Park brought us Oatmeal and some great coffee. She even told us that she couldn't charge us because she felt bad about our sleeping situation. We reassured her that we were used to it by now. We stuffed ourselves with the hot food and hit the road in the rain.
Knowing that you are pedaling towards a dry house always seem to give you a little peace of mind when you are soaking wet and carrying wet camp gear.

We arrived at the Aureguy's (Craig, Marlaine, Mateo, Isabella) house in the early afternoon. And so started one of the most serious eating binges of the trip. Craig and Marlaine are unbelievable cooks and every morning, afternoon and evening we were treated to phenomenal eats. Parker and I are both walking away from our stay about 10 lbs heavier and I am not exaggerating.

Craig is a master contractor / developer in Puerto Vallarta and his house is a perfect example of his capabilities. We enjoyed every amenity imaginable, from hot tub, to swimming pool, to huge custom custom showers and top of the line appliances. The house is ridiculous and we are both so appreciative that we got to enjoy it for a week.

During our stay we were treated to a day of fishing and a day of bird hunting. The day of fishing did not work out as planned and we only walked away having landed two small fish. Luckily they both fell to flies. Our day of hunting was a bit of a different story.

Neither of us are big hunters but we jumped on the opportunity to join Craig and a few of his friends to hunt dove and teal duck. The morning was a bit slow but once we started walking through the farmlands in search of small lagoons the action picked up. We both enjoyed the fact that instead of hunting dogs the guys hire local kids to run through the lagoons to search for ducks. The kids provided us with constant entertainment. Every time we turned around they were measuring their height against Parker.

Following our outing we headed back to a local ranch where we cleaned the birds and enjoyed some cervezas, tacos, locally picked fruit, and some funny conversation.

During our time in PV we also snuck in a 1 hour radio interiew that we did with a very popular station and we did 3 presentations at a local school. All were extremely successful and very well received. I'm working on getting a copy of the radio interview which ended up being very funny.

We will depart Puerto Vallarta tomorrow for a 700km journey to Zihuatanejo, where will meet a few of our friends including a one, Eliza Veal.

To view photos from this segment of the trip click here : Photos Loreto - Puerto Vallarta

To view photos from our hunting trip and our interviews click here: Photos PV......