Climb Argentina and The Journey Back to Cali

The Peruvian beach of Huanchaco provides all the necessities that I require for a relaxing week of surf and sun. The perfect meter to two meter waves roll consistently left as the local lineup is full of smiling faces. The town itself still holds its fishing village culture in tact while catering to the influx of sun seeking tourists. One can wonder around the many colorful tightly packed houses encountering hidden plazas, friendly locals, and a good meal. Enjoying the cool night while I relax in the beach front park my conscience takes a stroll through the corridors of my fondest memories opening the doors of the last two months climbing through Argentina and spending time with family and friends.

The magical class V no exit canyon of El Rio Puelo was a perfect trip to end our whitewater tiempo en Chile. Two Frenchies, One American, a lost boat, scrambling up steep cliffs, powerful no scout rapids, and anxious waiting as our lost companion reappeared at the end of the canyon wet, bloody and tired; yet his smile still sparkled when he saw us and our black berry stained hands embraced. The rest of the journey we were taken care of by the humble Chilean mountain folk as plates were filled with fresh bread and cazuela. Only the calm waters waited ahead, passing the next two days eating, drinking and recalling the good times on Chilean whitewater.

Entering Esquel, Argentina for the start of our climbing trip Julian and I already managed to loose the grille and his paddle which randomly reappeared in a taxi we took to the bus terminal. Que suerte. Three days later after climbing hard, watching an impressive forest fire light up the night sky and adjusting our bodies to the use of new muscles we arrived in Bariloche. Showing up unannounced at the house of a climbing couple we took rafting in Chile whom happened to be UIAGM mountain guides we established ourselves for the next month of Bariloche cragging. Entering the hidden home, Ana was chopping wood while Bicho was busy welding chimney parts; we surprised our benefactors whom in a short time would become good friends. After a massive asado outside with climbers from around Bariloche we shared stories, photos, and were given solid beta for the climbing to come.

Our first stop was Valle Encantado where one crosses a river to get lost among shaded criss-crossing paths as volcanic walls appear above the green pine trees. Amazing sport climbing on soft pockety rock where one can rest amidst the shaded pines while you swear there must be smurfs hiding within this enchanted forest. Back at Bicho’s base camp in Bariloche we ate nightly asados and climbed close by at the roadside crag La Ventana. Venturing to Frey we tried our best to enjoy the scenic 4hour hike as our fully loaded packs and kayak legs had our bodies fighting the final steps to the Refugio. Set among beautiful spires and next to a crystal alpine lake El Refugio Frey offers climbers and hikers a place to stay, have a meal, and share mates or cerveza after a day of solid granite climbing. The defined spires hold hundreds of routes, filled with every feature a granite climber could ask for. Sticking to the cracks we savored every jam and the new view the vertical world brought in the breathtaking landscape of Frey.

Back in town we rested by the lake, sampled the local breweries, helped the amigos out in their construction projects and ate many an asado. The following days we explored some of the areas secret spots where our mountain guide friends shared with us their hidden crags and future projects. Splitter cracks running through kind basalt hidden in dry slot canyons as guachos trotted by on their caballos. The areas of Bariloche boasted breathtaking landscape as the climbing was excellent with a variety of rock to choose from. Our time in the Lake District was truly special for the people made every day memorable. The amazing hospitality of our friends and the rest of the local climbing community whom we came to call amigos shared with us their culture and lifestyle in a way that stuck to our hearts as their epic stories, friendly smiles, hard work, patience and unequalled buena onda defined them.

Five days of rain, filled with creeky kayaking, indoor climbing and asados under a roof finally had us make the decision to head North. We said our goodbyes over roasting cordero and vino. Hugs, emails and knifes where exchanged as we traveled to Cordoba where warmer and dryer weather awaited. Our unknown hosts took us in with smiles and received us with open arms and pizza. The hospitality of these strangers, a soon to be married couple and working brother, whom had thousands of preparations to make before the big day was remarkable. We left Meli, Nico and Mariano for our Ola climbing trip; a sport area near the road up to the mountains. The first couple of days were peaceful as the area was ours to explore with the friendly caretaker baking fresh bread every morning. Easter break arrived and climbers flooded the little camping oasis. Ready to get away from the crowds we ventured farther out into the rocky landscape as slabby granite had our fingers screaming for relief. The next few days flew by as we climbed hard and gripped; arriving to camp for mates and tea, while conversations of how hard the grades are erupted between local and international climbers. Nights were spent either in quite solitude or enjoying the campsite festivities; drum circles, song, stories, slackline, full moon tango, midnight bouldering and all together debauchery. The week at La Ola was most excellent.

Returning to Cordoba we enjoyed pizza with our hosts and got ready for Los Gigantes. Almost 3hrs out side of Cordoba capital Los Gigantes boasts hundreds of sport and mixed routes ranging from 15m to 200m in length. The concentrated granite with babbling brooks trickling through mini slot canyons full of green fields amidst virgin towers is a stark comparison to the desert lowlands that one must pass through to reach this mountain oasis. Cold mornings and beautiful climbs had us in good spirits when the sun came out and cursing the mountain gods when the wind attempted to blow us off the sharp granite slab. Our only companions were the condors, falcons, grazing cattle and other small alpine critters. A perfect way to end our Argentina climbing trip; no distractions just eat, climb, eat, climb, eat, and sleep. Leaving Los Gigantes a day early due to nasty weather we got a ride from a local climber who invited us to pass the day watching motocross, eating asado and bebiendo cerveza, porque no? The last days in Cordoba we ate pizza, for the asados in Bariloche were replaced by homemade pizza dinners in Cordoba, climbed indoors, and got ready for the next adventure.

Julian the bold Frenchman from the Alps bid me adieu as he headed back to France. Three months working on El Rio Futaleufu, and two months climbing together, I am going to miss that little rascal and his ridiculous comments, “full power, no gringo styli” “slabby sanchita” and many more. After saying hasta luego to our generous Cordoban hosts and Ju Ju I hopped on a bus headed to Mendoza were family, friends and plenty of wine & food awaited.

A couple of weeks in Mendoza and Buenos Aires were spent visiting bodegas, eating generous meals, reuniting with old friends, enjoying mates in the park, indulging in the Latin nightlife, spending time with my Argentine family y mi madre and resting cuerpo y alma. After many good meals, nights filled with laughter and days of wondering around cities I embarked on a 60+ hour bus ride to Peru where my desire to spend my last week in South America surfing, eating sea food and relaxing took me to the sleepy fishing village turned surf town of Huanchaco.

Looking out over the Pacific as the sun sets while surfers catch their last waves del dia I can recall the first day of the Southbound Journey, 17 months ago, crossing into Mexico where the unknown led us to unforgettable places, memorable friendships and the journey of a lifetime. The wind blows softly while the scent of salt water fills the air, a smile comes to my face for these past 17 months traveling, adventuring and working in the Americas has left me with the most amazing experiences and friendships. The future holds a flight back to California where I will spend the summer working on the Kern River then off to Spain in October to spread the English language and adventure romp through the beautifully sophisticated Europa.

“Never let go of the smiles you ignite along your journey, for they will keep you believing in the charisma and beauty of those around you. “ -AH

Futaleufu, Chile

Driving out of the CRROBS base camp while the morning sun struck the dew covered jungle landscape and the song birds awoke to the start of the dry season; as flowers opened up looking forward to the grooming rays, I thought of how I was going to miss the tropics and my Tico familia. By leaving the jungle rivers, where monkeys run amok in the trees, alligators swim in calm waters and snakes slither around the high grass, I was about to enter a whole new environment; a land where mountains touched the sky with snowy peaks looming over glacier lakes, pine forests shelter massive blue cows, sheep and wild mountain critters, no bugs, and mucho frio. Was I ready for the powerfully beautiful Patagonia?

The long plane ride had me thinking of the last time I was in Argentina, seven years prior; a kid who had gone abroad in search of something he couldn’t grasp at the time. Leaving the luggage claim in the Buenos Aires International Airport I was surprisingly unaffected about my current situation… just 24 hours ago I had bought a one way ticket to Argentina from Costa Rica to visit a family I had not seen in seven years and return to a place I left shattered and without closure, where one of the most powerful rivers on earth awaited my skills in the wild Patagonia. It all seemed so normal as I rolled my bags along the airport floor. The sliding doors opened revealing the outside world to the plane-weary passengers. In the front of anxious families, patient wives and excited children was my entire Argentinean host family, looking the same as they did seven years ago. Hugs and kisses were given and stories began to be exchanged - did I mention how normal this all felt? The universe had let me slip back into their lives as if I had never left and with this seamless re-entry these strangers of seven years became mi familia once again.

The next few days were spent retracing my steps through forgotten barrios, new rooms and the fashionably Latin Buenos Aires. We ate empanadas, had asados, drank vino tinto, munched on freshly baked facturas and indulged in the metropolitan onda of the Paris of South America. It was a quick visit with the Lorenzos for I had to catch a long bus to Esquel and then hitch to Futaleufu where whitewater paradise awaited.

Awakening to the rolling hills of golden wheat, set among puffy white clouds in a blue sky, the Andes Mountains hid themselves in the distant background. I was in awe at what lay beyond my window. We were slowly entering the grandeur of northern Patagonia. Stepping of the bus in Esquel after 26hrs of constant travel my legs were stiff and my body felt stale from packaged food and filtered air. I grabbed a few empanadas then jumped on the next bus to Trevelin. From there I waved down a friendly taxi who took me to the Argentina & Chilean border. I waited on the Chilean side for my ride to Futaleufu. A van pulled up with a Doc from Back to the Future look-alike at the wheel. Just add some sunglasses, visor and tanned skin and I thought I was going to be taken through time; which was exactly was about to happen as we approached the quaint Patagonian town of Futaleufu.

Futaleufu sits across from its neighboring Argentinean Esquel, hidden among the snowy peaks and majestic river valleys. The town name means Rio Grande in the local indigenous language (mapuche). Known for its world class rafting, kayaking, good fishing, hiking and true Patagonian village feel Futaleufu was exactly what I had been looking for.

The following days were spent getting to know the various characters within the company and around town. The FutaEx team included three hilarious Chileans, one crazy Frenchman, a very serious but sometimes alegre Peruvian, myself and the legendary Old Josh. From the day I arrived we were on the river every afternoon, training on the mighty Futleufu, where big water waves swamped 16 foot rafts and kayaks disappeared in whirlpools. The beauty of the Futaleufu can only be truly appreciated when you are amidst the frothy waves, for the pictures show beauty but can not express the magic that you feel amongst it all. The river itself runs celeste blue through pine forests, bamboo groves, among chalk stone boulders, below granite cliffs that rival Yosemite, where turbulent waters pass over huge holes, produce himalaya size waves, and swirl in remolinos that can swallow houses. The water weaves inbetween canyon walls, eventually mellowing out, as snowy peaks touch the sky and the mighty Futaleufu becomes placid in Lago Yelcho. El Rio Futaleufu is not only a magnificent river but the valleys that surround it are full of hidden waterfalls, stout hikes, peaceful creeks, snow capped spires, and the wonderfully friendly huasos (cowboys) of southern Chile. And at the beginning of it all is the small town of Futaleufu where generations of farmers and local merchants have openly accepted the growing whitewater culture that is mixing together with their Chilean traditions and manera de vivir.

A couple of months have past by and life holds its same relaxed pace here in the Futaleufu Valley. The river is getting lower but spirits are high in anticipation for the first Futaleufu river festival at the end of February. My days are spent in a tranquil routine as I am awoken by the howl of the wind, taking breakfast on my porch looking out at the rolling mountains that surround the town. Caminando en la calle I encounter friendly faces at every turn as the local towns folk have come to know the blond smiley gringo that lives in town. The jolly baker greets me with a friendly wave, the old senoras smile, children say hola, the horse trotting cowboys give a kind head nod and on any given day a stranger becomes a friend. Every day is spent on the water in some sort of manera if it’s guiding rafts, safety catarafting, kayaking, or just bathing in the clear refreshing waters of the Fu.

The end of February kicked off with Futaleufu week as a new eruption from Volcan Chaiten brought ash clouds through the town covering everything in a layer of gray as night fell during mid day. The blackness engulfed the town turning this quaint Patagonian village into a ghost pueblo where the only flicker of light was the shimmer of various candles within the homes.

After an ugly eruption, cleaning and some quick noticias, the river festival went on as planned. Leaving town towards El Rio Futaleufu you suddenly loose the gray ash as the clean southern landscape escaped the volcanoes wraith. The festival kicked off with the boater cross where our team of local guides took second after a close finish with the Argentina national raft team. The next few days where spent paddling, competing in various events, spending time with river rats from around the world over afternoon mates, bonfires, corderos, and other festivities. Driving back from our crowd roaring raft performance in the mondaca rodeo where our little balsa out tricked the majority of the kayaks I noticed our van was full of a hodgepodge of international paddlers. Out of the 12 people in the van there were 10 different nationalities. This made me smile all the more after a great day of events, for not only was the Futa-Fest there to help promote El Rio Futaleufu but it was a gathering place for river lovers del mundo who truly hold this mythical Patagonian river close to their hearts. This love for the river and community was shown in how no competitor who won their specific event accepted a prize, it was all donated to a random raffle were locals had a chance to win gear to pursue a sport perceived to be dangerous and exclusive before the festival and now demonstrated as fun, exiting, and magical. The festival ended with smiles, congratulations, email exchanges, hugs, kisses and an overall buena onda. The next days saw paddlers lingering in town for some last boating with new friends before heading their separate ways.

The following week will be busy with river trips and goodbye asados as guides will be departing in early March to head back to their next season, let that be in their native country or a foreign land. I will say goodbye to this divine river in March with hope of returning to its mythical waters in the future. My travels will be more land based as a friend and I will head north to callous up our hands on Chilean and Argentine granite for two months. After the climbing trip my path will be decided on what I encounter along the way as the Patagonia wind might call me back or blow me away to another Tierra. Maybe guiding in Japan, teaching in Spain, running rivers in Australia, working on vineyards in Mendoza or climbing in the Middle East. As of now anything could happen and my heart is open to the next adventurous destiny that awaits my restless spirit.

“Learn to love through living a perpetually changing life, where those whom you encounter along your path forever impact your destiny” -AH

Working in Central America

The past few months working in Central America have been a rollercoaster of experiences filled with remarkable memories, unforgettable faces and lifelong friendships. Since the Southbound crew split up to go their separate ways in May I have stayed and worked in Costa Rica as a river instructor and then journeyed North to Guatemala for more river work.

Working in Costa Rica brought forth its own challenges that were over -shadowed by the kindness of the people, beauty of the country and excitement of the trabajo. We floated along where floods raged and stranded took on another meaning as instructors drifted away on mattresses, camps got evacuated, and a group of 20 became inseparable as days on end were spent staring out at the continuous rain from the comfort of a small farm house in the hills. Bridges were broken, families heli-evacuated, roads closed, yet hot chocolate continued to be poured and the aroma of gallo pinto filled the house.

Weather cleared, Alma dissipated and the pura vida came back in style. Mangos filled kayaks, watermelon and papaya hunting provided good adventures and star fruit clung to near by branches. The country took on a new soul as I worked my way into its interior where the rivers provided epic canyon views, powerful waterfalls, hanging sloths, breathtaking rapids, colorful meals, and constant laughter as my tico brothers and I shared horrible jokes. The time spent in Costa Rica showed me how much I appreciate the people of this lovely country with their farming background mixed with an outdoor education vibe. 7 brothers working side by side on the river from a family of 20. Truly a remarkable familia where roles were played out, nicknames explained, stories re-invented, knowledge shared, recipes received, jokes poked at the bearded gringo and all in all constant hilarity.

The lush Costa Rican landscape proved to be adventure paradise found with its raging rivers, tubular waves, breathtaking hikes, and friendly locals. Leaving for Guatemala I would later discover that in calling Costa Rica “paradise found” the Guatemala which I experienced could be called “paradise lost.”

Arriving to the small town of Lanquin located in Alta Verapaz with my kayak on my shoulder, bag on my back and sprained ankle I hoppled in to Guatemala Rafting camp as the rain refreshed my travel weary body. The friendly Dutch owners greeted me with a warm meal and welcomed me to el paradiso. The morning came with our river deck providing a perfect view of the mist being burned off the jungle mountains. Lanquin is situated among the Alta Verapaz where green mountains are layered upon one another as rivers cut through canyons, limestone pools provide a resting spot in turquoise waters, caves are enjoyed by candlelight and the sleepy mountain town sets its own hours as locals walk along the cobblestone streets in typical Mayan garb. The nearby El Retiro hostel provides all the entrainment needed as viajeros from all over the world gather to enjoy the tranquility provided by the peaceful river flow, lounging in a hammock, listening to the birds chirp, and grooving to the nightly tunes of the Fat Frog bar where drinks are poured - while guests munch on tasty buffets sharing stories of where and when. Could a traveling paddler be happier? For not only does the pueblo hold true to its Mayan mountain town roots, and the hostel provide a great place for wondering and resting, but the rivers rage as massive rapids develop in jungle canyons where first descents are only limited by your lack of imagination aka “transport.”

The rivers Lanquin and Cahabon take you through time as you float solo among sky scraping green peaks where corn grows in the most rugged of slopes and local Quiche women wash clothes and children in the rio giving you a friendly wave or a look of utter bewilderment. The men lug firewood, corn and all sorts of heavy materials strapped to their necks as the little children follow suit with miniature loads. The culture is as rich as the coffee grown in the surrounding fields and one wonders what the locals think of these funny looking extranjeros suited up in bright puffy things, with helmets, funky paddles and wild bravado as they balance on a blue boat cruising down wild waters where only ancient gods or those willing to cross into the other world would dare venture.

The time spent in Lanquin showed me the true colors of this unique country where a civil war just ended and technology is reaching the outskirts with tourism as its guide. Those three months in Guatemala will hold a special place in my fondest memories for the sharing of cultures, friendships, unforgettable experiences and laughable stories let me leave with a greater understanding about this amazingly small mundo around us.

On my return bus ride to Costa Rica I look forward to queso frito, gallo pinto and seeing my tico hermanos y hermanas, Yet the toothless smiles, friendly saludos, deserted rivers, jolly amigos, soothing serenades, and the Mayan culture pull me back to the paradise lost of Guatemala.

Working here in Central America has been an amazing experience filled with so many precious memories and lifelong amistades among beautiful pasajes. I plan on staying in Costa Rica for a little more river time then continue with Southbound Horizons through South America where the mountains of the cordillera blanca summon my climbing spirit.

Hasta la proxima adventura amigos!

Costa Rica - Pura Vida!

The tranquil border crossing led us down the Costa Rican hwy where we luckily found Abe and Ashley hitchhiking towards the beach. It was nice to be together again, “La gran familia.” Ruffles, Vic, Abe, Ashley and I. The dry northern lands of Guanacaste greeted us with cloudful mountains and herding cattle. After a quick stay in Liberia we cruised to the beaches of the Nicoya Peninsula. The overdeveloped city of Tamarindo allowed us to re-supply and fix the long board before moving south to the smaller beach communities. Dirt roads, mangrove forests and hidden cabanas provided the backdrop to the white sandy beach of Playa Avellanas. Squatting on an abandoned beachfront property we past the next few days lying in hammocks, surfing, searching for seashells, playing music and enjoying the beach bum lifestyle. Motivated and refreshed we drove north to the lush jungle region of Volcan Arenal. Windy roads covered by elephant size plants helped shield the constant rain that misted over the pretty lake Arenal hiding the impressive volcano. La Fortuna with its booming tourist industry provided a quick stop for cool mountain air, natural hot springs and family dinners. A rainy morning has us packed up and off to the busy, congested and secretive capitol of San Jose.

The sprawl of San Jose provided a stark contrast from the sunny beaches and misty mountains of the rest of Costa Rica. Ma Cheri Cecile greeted us and got us situated for the next couple days of goodbyes, bienvenidos and airport runs. The nights provided hilarious entertainment for the Imperial Beer Music Festival was being held just outside the city in the surrounding farmland. With no tickets and hope for an easy entry we parked on the outskirts listening to Costa Rican rock and when it came time for the headline bands of Incubus and Smashing Pumpkins we pulled off the greatest break-in of all time. Which involved crawling through mud, leaping fences, dodging security and a black eye. Yet we made it inside and the music roared as thousands of Ticos sang along. Que Locura!!

Returning to the airport we said goodbye to Ashley wishing her luck in West Virginia, climb hard sista! Ruffles bid adieu, for the islands of Panama beckoned his artisan skills and Heather was now with us after a long flight from CA. So Abe, Vic, Heather and I cruised towards the beach with sun, surf and relax on our minds. Our first stop was Puntarenas to meet up with Abe’s friend. A packed beach house with studying internationals welcomed us as stories were shared over cold beverages and sunset slackline sessions. My birthday arrived as we set off on the ferry to Montezuma for some clear water, sandy beaches, wave action and small surf town vibes. A great day topped with a vino inspired ferry ride and beach side dinner with three very dear amigos, que buen cumpleanos! The sticky rustic port feel of Puntarenas as a city left to the will of the scorching sun, calloused hands and jaded paint followed us alone our way to Dominical.

Bumpy roads bordered by coastal cliffs and palm plantations had us scooting into Dominical where sarongs hung from palm trees and rental cars full of surfboards lined the beach as wooden tiendas and cute eateries clustered together around main street. Dominical had kept its small surf town feel and artsy vibe. Let’s hope it continues to shun the overdevelopment that has plagued much of the rest of coastal Costa Rica. Before getting situated we said our final goodbyes to Abe as he grabbed a bus up north to explore some hidden boulders before flying back to CA for a summer chasing bugs and climbing. His manera de ser will be missed, “buena suerte amigo!” We found a wonderful place to stay on the outskirts of town where we met some friendly guests from Holland and Australia. Days in Dominical were passed surfing, fixing broken boards, walking the beach, playing connect four, watching breathtaking sunsets, cooking gourmet meals under a tin roof, and afternoon treks to hidden waterfalls where the cool water oasis of San Cristobel touched to sky.

After a few days in Dominical we drove back to San Jose for final goodbyes. Heather flew away leaving Vic and I together to pass one more evening of recuerdos and storytelling before his flight for CA. With Vic’s departure thus marks the end of the first leg of Southbound Horizons, he will be missed but his presence will be felt and inspire new adventures when Southbound Horizons heads to Patagonia. Driving alone through the basurafied streets of San Jose many memories flooded my mind thinking about all the amazing adventures, experiences and wonderful people through Central America; 9,000 miles over 115 days, so many stories, so many wonders.

Until late September / early October the Southbound Horizons journey through South America will be put on hold for some amazing work opportunities in Costa Rica and Guatemala have presented themselves for the summer. I am currently working as a river and land instructor for Costa Rica Rainforest Outward Bound School http://www.crrobs.org/ and in early July will be heading up to Lanquin, Guatemala to work as a river guide on the Rio Cahabon with Guatemala Rafting. If you want to take a stellar river trip on a beautiful and exciting river through some the most magnificent landscapes in all of Central America then check out the website guatemalarafting.com or http://home.planet.nl/~bleij383/

Dear faithful readers, thank you for keeping our journeys in mind and heart and keep an eye or finger click ready for October when Southbound Horizons continuous through the next continent full of adventure, purpose, culture and buena onda.

“The future holds the realization of a wonderers dreams, greetings from exotic lands and the gratification of never knowing what follows the next horizon. “ -AH

Nica Nica Nicaragua

Nicaragua proved to be a country so rich in culture that we melted into the mix of it all with submissive ease. Arriving in Leon late in the afternoon we found an energetic hostel where we met a handful of folks who had some solid recommendations about the country. Leon allowed us to relax, wonder around the city streets in search for savory street food, and collect information from other travelers. We left the backpacker scene of Leon and ventured south towards Granada. Getting an early start we decided to spend a few hours at Playa Pochomil surfing and lounging in the sun. The beach was desolate with ok waves and seemed to be a perfect stop before entering the city of Granada where glamorous architecture gleamed above the central plaza. The quite, clean and comfortable Oasis hostel became our base camp for exploring the colonial lakeside city of Granada. Wondering the streets we seemed to always find ourselves arriving in the central plaza where the night lights lit up the open plaza for friendly soccer games where broken bikes provided goals for the serious street competitors. The city was alive at night with hidden bars, international cuisine, lovers on park benches, international movies at the cultural center, greasily scrumptious street food, and music flowing out of second story windows. During the day the bustle surrounded the market and cars zoomed around the abandoned streets from anoche. Hanging out in hammocks during the mid day sun we struck up a friendship with some volunteers at a nearby orphanage who proceeded to invite us to come visit.

We arrived at San Jorge and drove the back roads towards the lake side orphanage of Casa Asis. Mary and Siri welcomed us in and began to introduce us the children, teachers, and other volunteers. The children were so full of love as they came running to hug the bearded visitors. The smiles and laughter seemed to never end as the children ran around, giggled at our accents, tugged on our facial hair and welcomed us into their community. To see these joyful children from ages 2-7 here in a safe environment where they were genuinely loved and cared for after coming from street lives, abusive families or unwanting parents overflowed my heart with happiness. After spending the day with the kids we stayed at the orphanage that night hanging out with Mary & Siri. Their hospitality seemed endless as we ate typical Nicaraguan food and shared stories before acostando en una buena cama. Breakfast with the ninos and off to la Isla de Ometepe. The orphanage looked out at Lake Nicaragua where two stunning volcanoes rose out of the waters upon the forested Isla. We waved goodbye to the kids and promised we would return within the next few days.

A choppy ferry ride over had us on the island and eventually walking 10 kilometers of dirt roads through small towns, farmland and lake side beaches to the Italian run organic farm of Zopilote. The jungle finca which attracted peace loving travelers with a desire to eat good natural food, work on the farm or just rest in hammocks became our home stay on the island. We met many friendly folks while munching on fresh bread, home made jams, organic nutella, and mud oven pizza. Days passed playing chess, swimming in the lake, comiendo bien, swinging in hammocks, reading, sharing travel stories and watching the sun set behind the volcano creating a colorful palate upon the lake water below. A couple of days of relax on the Island had me ready to get back to the orphanage and hang out with the kids. We met up with a traveling artesian / cook from France with a Mexican accent and buena onda. Riding la lancha back to San Jorge we walked the beach to the orphanage following the sounds of laughter coming from the fields below. It was “field day” and all the kids came running over grabbing our hands and inviting us to take part in the day’s activities. Mary greeted us with an amazing lunch spread; it felt good to be back at Casa Asis. A day of games, laughter, smiles and heeeelarity proceeded. It felt good to be part of something so positive, being welcomed into the orphanage was a genuinely unique experience that provided a sense of purpose and community for us. It was hard to leave the happy faces and new friendships of Casa Asis. Waving goodbye to Mary, Siri and los ninos we pilled in the car and drove to Costa Rica.

Crossing into Costa Rica we waited patiently until all the papers were in order and were soon on our way towards the Nicoya Peninsula. Just about to leave the border we ran back into Abe and Ashley from Oregon hitchhiking. They had stayed on the island for a couple days longer and now we were all re-acquainted to start our adventures through Costa Rica. Rufles, Ashley, Vic, Abe and I all squeezed into the already gear packed Blazer and zoomed south. The good vibes of Nicaragua, its people, food, new friendships, beautiful landscape, stunning structures and rich culture floated through the air on our journey towards the lesser traveled beaches of northern Costa Rica. Pura Vida man!!!!

El Salvador

A peaceful entry into El Salvador had us cruising along the coastal roads in no time. The dry deforested landscape melted into the bright blue waters of the pacific as locals waved and whistled our way. Playa Sunzal beckoned us to stay with its laid back beach vibe and the only dangers being falling mangos and runaway sugar cane trucks. We met the energetic owner of “El Hostel” and struck up a deal to work off our lodging. A seasonal firefighter from California who loved to work hard, surf and brew beer. Cody was creating his dream and it was exciting helping him shape his visions for El Hostel. Dan and I passed the days with early morning surf sessions, with the best point break in the country a meer 200m down the vine littered path where the sun sparkled through the foliage creating a mystical entrance to the perfect waves that awaited. Afternoons were spent painting, digging, building shelves, lying in hammocks and enjoying Latin tunes. Los noches came with slack lining, beach bouldering, sunset surf, and family dinners. We were reunited with Abe & Vic after a week in Sunzal and the buena onda del lugar had us staying for a few more days enjoying the beach. Day treks to waterfalls, plaza relaxation, highline antics, and grander dinners all came with the traveling group growing, while laughter echoed through the hallway and competitive foosball games brought cheers! Leaving Playa Sunzal we knew we would be back to see Cody’s dream hostel finito and explore the hidden caves along the coast where the enojado ocean had denied our entrance.

Leaving the beach we traveled up north to the quaint mountain village of Suchitoto. We spent the next couple of days eating fresh bread, enjoying the peaceful lake views offered by our hospedaje, exploring the quiet colonial streets as locals greeted us with kind smiles and open arms. The pace of life seemed to be frozen in a state of tranquilidad with the revolutionary history of the area having a nubloso effect on the townsfolk, and hope for a peaceful future provided smiles that helped clear the countries darker past. The state of delirium was broken when we left for San Salvador and said our good byes to Dan and our new El Salvador traveling amigo, Chris from Montana. They were heading north back to Guatemala while we drove south to re-coger Abe and head towards Nicaragua via Honduras.

The most feared, corrupt and loco border crossing awaited us at El Amatillo. Leaving the El Salvador section wasn’t too bad but the amazingly coordinated Mafioso-like entrance into El Honduras proved to be muy caro. Cabrones!!! After much hassle, fast talking, running around in circles, and finally giving in to the realization that everyone was “in on it” we paid the fees and crossed into Honduras. The southern tip of Honduras allowed us to see very little of the country in under 2 hours before crossing into Nicaragua. During that time through Honduras we reflected back on the amazing time we spent exploring El Salvador with its friendly villagers, greasy pupusas, epic surf, family dinners, afternoon hammock meditations, sense of purpose and overall good times. With little knowledge about the country and its pasaje we entered Nicaragua open-minded and in need of a good rest after driving from central El Salvador.

Guatemala

Crossing into Guatemala proved to be less hectic than expected as we were soon on our way toward Coban. The pavement turned to dirt as late night construction had us breaking the cardinal rule; NO driving at night! Entering Coban, we chowed on some tasty street food and walked around. Our first morning in Guatemala brought delicious pastries and a little bit of backtracking to the highland village of Lanquin. Set among the layered mountains of north eastern Guatemala, Lanquin sat amidst the turquoise waters of the mighty Rio Cahabon. A friendly and unique hostel with an energetic international vibe provided a picturesque eco-lodge atmosphere for the next few days. One could camp by the river, wake up to an amazing desayuno and slide the kayak into the cool waters for some exciting Class III-V rapids ranging from 1hr to multi-day runs. Nights were full of traveler talk, games, good food and wild stories. We had fallen into the “gringo” trail which encompasses southern Mexico, and Guatemala. Everyone was going our way or coming from that way, recommendations por todos lados. El Retiro came out of the travel channel which made it that much harder to leave the thatched roofs, Mayan art, swinging hammocks, veggie conscious menu, colorful gardens and captivating crowds.

Leaving the green mountains we lost elevation as the colonial capital of Antigua had us gazing up at the mighty volcanoes that surrounded the beautiful city. Entering Antigua we listened to the instructions of our new traveling amigo Kurt. He had us safe and sound in a cozy Posada in no time. His friendly demeanor, engaging conversations, interesting history and hippied out, eco-conscious vibe made the long ride seem short and restless walks more enjoyable. Meandering around Antigua we were struck by the similarities between the other colonial towns we visited, yet Antigua seemed to have lost some of its magic with the amount of tourist traffic that bustled around the cobblestone streets. Waking up to the smoking volcanoes and esperanza for some good coffee, only brought theft and broken spirits. The “oh so peaceful” atmosphere of Antigua turned out to be a cloud covered hot bed for car robberies and we became yet another victim of the street. The theft led to some changes in plans and soon we were running around town trying to find the culprits. With no leads and many unhelpful shrugs we packed up our remaining gear and escaped to the quite Lake Atitlan.

The colorful, free spirited, peace loving village of San Pedro comforted us from our mishap in Antigua. We rested by the tranquil lake nestled among green volcanoes, ate amazing food, met up with traveling friends, hiked up sacred Mayan routes, and established some new plans. Leaving San Pedro we cruised up north to Xela where cool mountain breezes had us bundled up at night ready to climb in the surrounding hillsides. La Chicua and La Muela provided a dramatic climbing landscape among old lava flows, where clouds covered the valley below and religious chanting echoed through the hills, giving one an eerie spiritual feeling. It felt good to be out camping again and with a new traveling buddy named Dan, who hailed from Canada and studied at Columbia, whose scholastic roots and laidback vibe seemed to mesh well with our dynamic. After climbing and enjoying the cool volcanic atmosphere, the group spilt up as Vic and Abe went back to Lake Atitlan to study Spanish for a week and Dan and I rolled south.

Another night in Antigua had us camping in the police compound and exploring some possible robbery leads. With no new information about our stolen gear we headed towards El Volcan Pacaya where a horse ride up to the magnificent peak and jumping around an active lava flow had us gazing into the sunset towards El Salvador as the lava blazed among the dark volcanic rock. A day of climbing around Lake Amititlan where crack lines and an overhead gondola for spectators had us good and tuckered out before leaving for El Salvador the next day. While zooming through the mountain roads, towards the border, images were evoked of active volcanoes, raging rapids, eerie climbing, tasty street food, friendly travelers, tranquil lakes, peaceful towns and breathtaking landscapes. Guatemala is a country so rich in its diversity of terrain and colorful culture, an amazing pais with countless possibilities for exploration.

The little known El Salvador loomed on the horizon. Would it be the El Salvador that people warned us not to enter with highway robberies, kidnappings, bribery, and not so scenic landscape? Or, would it be endless black sand beaches, generous locals, untainted villages, great surf; a recuperating gem? Let’s hope for the latter. Vamos a El Salvador!