Volcano Conception

First, I must thank Duncan, the Brit geologist, for convincing Matt, Paul, Silva and myself to climb perfect cone of Conception over beers. I really needed a rest day after 4-5 days of riding. I am still crippled Duncan you bastard.We started out of town from the hostel by 5:30 am for potentially a 10 to 12 hour trek up and down the volcano. We hiked up through bananas, olive trees and coffee to stop at the "gateway" to pay a nominal fee (30 cordobas/$1.50) to climb the volcano. Noting the gatekeeper sharpening his machete Silvio said we better pay . . . Matt noticed some long thin vines, Silvio said they were good for binding and strangling people . . . completely deadpan . . . I like this guy and the nervous laughter.





The climb quickly steepened as it bee lined up the cone through the thick jungle of the lower slopes. Howler monkeys heralded our ascent and at one rest point we watched a troop of Capuchin monkeys feeding in the canopy across a narrow drainage. I was completely soaked - sweat dripped from nose to finger tips and i discarded my shirt after wringing it out and placing on a bush to dry as I continued to climb.









We quickly started to clear the canopy to view the other volcano and waist of the island. We entered a misty hot cloud forest environment that was dense with orchids!



I have been looking for orchids blooming in the wild for the better part of two decades of travel. Usually, I am visiting the wrong time of the year to see them but not this time. Initially, I noticed a few then realized the slopes were covered with many varieties of orchids.









The slopes of Volcano Conception are well know for orchids and certain types exist in only one or two other cloud forest environments in the world. For some reason I thought about King Kong . . .


The upper slopes are steep, loose, black volcanic soil dominated by vegetation with large crinkled leaves for capturing moisture. The richness of the soil around the volcanoes means farmers do not have to fallow fields and plant continuously as rains wash fresh soil and nutrients down the slopes.



Leaves were layered with fine coat of sulfurous ash from the continuous smoking of the volcano.
Nearing the top was a sea of broad leaves looking out over the island.
Within 50 meters of the caldera edge vegetation ceased to grow. The smell of sulfur filled your nose and the ground became noticeably warm. Thin plumes of steam escaped the loose soil. You could not help but wonder, "is this safe"? Evidently, the answer is, "no". No way you could do this in the United States but who are you going to sue here?

I came up to the edge and looked over.

I knew I was appropriately impressed because Silvio was impressed, and he sometimes climbs this volcano 3-4 times a week. We had a clear view into the base of the caldera. There is no visible lava but a continual dull roar of escaping plumes of gas. The soil was steep and unconsolidated causing me to step back from the edge. There would be no return from that slide for life. He encouraged us to take photos now before our view disappears. We stood around the edge and Duncan gave us a primer on volcano types, how they are formed, and plate tectonics. Duncan has been climbing a lot of volcanoes in his past year or so trotting around the globe. I have never climbed an active volcano before and could not have been more pleased with my first.

Isla Ometepe

Grenada was a beautiful colonial city and evidently a lot of other people think the same - there were a lot of European and North American tourists strolling about . I easily found a hostel that let me take a shower. I chilled out at the Hotel Oasis until noon time chatting with a guy from Spain about how we disliked Honduras (sorry but true) and rehydrating. Then I headed to the dock to meet Matt, Paul, and Byron for the ferry to Isla Ometepe. Putting my bike into other hands always make me nervous. However, after answering a barrage of questions about the bike/trip from workers at the ferry terminal they seemed just as concerned for the bike as myself. I was starting to regret that i would not be longer in Nicaragua . . . oh well.
After getting my ticket and bike situated Matt, Paul, and Byron pulled up and I was able to hang out and watch the bikes and gear while they went through the same routine. It was fun to be with a group of like minded bikers for a change.




I even had time to befriend another dog, with some serious dental issues, over a lunch of rice, chicken, yucca, fried banana, and salad.
After piling onto the ferry for our five hour ride to the island we watch as the hold was filled with our gear and everything else an island community might require from food to new street lights.








We pulled away from the dock at 2pm watching the city recede and the volcanos grow in prominence.
The ferry had a variety of passengers from tourists to locals to two guys that were selling religious themed painted mirrors door to door at the various ferry stops - i only noticed because we continually met crossing Lago Nicaragua over the course of the week.Isla Ometepe is formed by two volcanoes rising out of Lago Nicaragua. Volcano Madera was 1300+ meters and no longer active. The volcanoes make Isla Ometepe the tallest island on a lake in the world. Volcano Conception was over 1600 meters, smokin' active, and noted for the most perfect volcanic cone in Central America, as well as, some unique orchid species. The two volcanoes are said to give the island an hourglass shape, though i preferred to think of it as a bikini top.
Volcano Conception gradually appeared through the haze as we approached the island.
We arrived at dusk to the port at Altagarcia, Isla Ometepe.
By the time bikes and gear were off loaded it was dark. We rode into town along the sandy unlit road accompanied by a local kid on his bike among others - i was told that there were more than 1000 bikes in Altagarcia alone - that means people must have a stable of bikes like me - you can never have too many bikes! Eventually we were guided to the Hostel Castillo and settled into the dorm before kickin' it with food and beers.

Not so Sexy Sex Hotels

I woke up early in Esteli intending to make some time before the day warmed up but as i was packing i realized that my camera was missing . . . oh shit! I immediately realized that I had left my bag on a chair at hotel the previous night. I had started chatting with the hotel owner who then gave me a tour, consequently forgetting that I had walked in with a bag. I immediately went to the hotel but the senora was not in until ten so i had to wait . . . nerve wracking but gave me a chance to read the particulars of my travel insurance policy. Luckily the camera was still there. I have renewed my faith in humanities inherent honesty. I got out of Esteli at a more typical 11:30 am start. I was under a some pressure to make it to Grenada, Nicaragua by late morning to catch a ferry to Isla Ometep. I stomped out a scenic 135km that afternoon sweating buckets and drinking gallons to finish up at nightfall outside of Managua.
Typically, if I want to make time hotels are more convenient than camping - combined with the strong desire to shower and being in an urban area i started to look around Tipitapa for a hotel in the dark. Figures the one place in Nicaragua without a hotel selection is Tipitapa. There was one "ecolodge" that did not seem very "eco" but they charged $4o US for a eco room for the night . . . not. I asked around and was told that there was no other hotels but there was a motel. Motels or Auto Hotels are places to meet your mistress or girl friend or prostitute to have sex hence they carry a stigma. However, they are typically clean, secure, have a modest porn selection, and are affordable. I just had to convince the guy with the pistol grip shotgun, who looked Ned Gerblansky from South Park, that I really just wanted the room to sleep in for the night. Though he could get me anything , I mean anything I wanted. Eventually, we both found each other pretty amusing. I walked out to buy a couple beers and water but was sent back to my room to wait by "the box" in the wall for my bevys to appear. The idea is to keep guests as anonymous as possible to avoid spying eyes. "Ned" appeared with a few cold ones and we were in business. I did not feel like eating anymore chicken so I decided to cook in my room after setting up a respectable little kitchen sitting on my bed. After a satisfying, if not gourmet meal, of orzo, I read a couple hundred more pages of Shogun and crashed. Overall, an acceptable night, minus the biblically proportioned swarm of flying ants in the room. I woke before 6am drank some cold instant coffee and was out the door by 6:30am sweating buckets with everyone else on the road. I arrived in Grenada by 9am to sit in the plaza and have a coke and will be catching a ferry for Isla Ometep this afternoon with at least 3 other cyclists.

¡Nicaragua!

I have always been curious to see Nicaragua. Nicaragua was part of the beginning of my political awareness. I began to understand the difference between what governments say versus what governments do. The Sandinista Revolution overthrew a dictator promising development centered around the people of Nicaragua, as well as, advocating a non-aligned foreign policy in the midst of the Cold War. When I crossed the border from Honduras to Nicaragua the change was obvious. Whereas Honduras was dominated by corporate advertising, every sign has a Coke or Pepsi logo (including signs for towns), corporate advertising is largely absent from the Nicaraguan landscape. Whereas Honduran agriculture was large fincas and Monsanto, Nicaraguan agriculture seems to focus on smaller scale technologies like adobe and locally provided seeds. The town of Esteli, where stayed a night, is important to the Sandinista Revolution and it is clearly focused on locally appropriate technologies, fair trade and community based development. While Nicaragua is poor like Honduras crime appears to be less of a problem if you can judge by the presence private armed security. Overall, feels more relaxed.
And most important to my cycling pleasure, Nicaraguans are not constantly honking their horns at me unlike Hondurans - that is very tiring and loud. I am far more comfortable. And it appears i will have some ride partners! I caught up Byron pedaling from Calgary after people started to tell me another cyclist was just ahead of me. And I will be catching up to Matt again in Grenada, as well. Party on wheels!

Happy Earth Day!

Actually, I am sure the earth will be fine after we have departed like a bad rash. The question is what to do with ourselves until then . . .

Prickly heat feels like this . . .

Across Honduras: San Pedro Sula to Danli

Honduras is mountainous. I knew that but the tendency is to think little countries have little mountains. . . oops. I rode out of San Pedro Sula in the late morning after finishing up a post anticipating a straight forward 80 km to Lago Yojoa and settling into a nice evening microbrew at the D& D Brewery. I was parched just considering a real craft beer. Honduras' intimate tie to the United States is pretty obvious for they are blessed with every US chain store/restaurant you can name from Pizza Hut to Home Depot. Then came industrial park after industrial park living up to SPS' motto “the industrial city.” The road was in good shape with a large shoulder of varying quality and Hondurans are pretty good drivers, though they do love their horns. I swear every vehicle honks at me, not a malicious “get off the road” honk but “hey, I see you” honk, honk. At first it was cute, then annoying, then I ignored it, unless it sounded really close.
San Pedro Sula is a little higher than sea level but Lago Yojoa is 2000 feet above sea level so I knew there was going to be climbing somewhere. The road just rolled along not gaining much elevation under a blazing tropical sun until afternoon when I seemed to gain all 2000 feet at once. I drank the volume of Lago Yojoa but didn't piss a drop, though each time renewing a profuse sweat. The steep lush mountain sides preside over valleys either under cultivation or cattle grazing. I reached the edge of the lake by early evening and considered skipping the extra distance around the lake to D & D Brewery but convinced by a couple police officers and a sign that said only 14km I continued the 20+km to Mochito. After 110+km I pulled into the brewery/hotel on a rough dirt lane in the dark and was not disappointed. The Pale Ale was excellent. I drank five and chatted with an ex-pat Brit with a long white beard in a single braid who had not been home in 30 years after tramping and working around the globe. Malcolm was the resident naturalist who had led a wildly eclectic life from India to France to Turkey to Central America. He was erudite and had a perspective on the world that only comes from living in it and I was fascinated as he told stories of living with gypsies in Turkey to itinerant labor in France. It is rare to meet someone that willingly embraces the ephemeral nature of life. Malcolm consequently has the comfort to go places and do things only dreamed by most, myself included. I slept well to the din of torrential rain on a tin roof.Drawn by the lake and immense tropical forest striding down mountains to the shore, I almost stayed but I felt strong and had the yen to move. I stopped by the lake and ate a whole fried Tilapia on the way out and contemplated the replacement of Bass by Tilapia. Lago Yojoa is Honduras' largest natural lake, 360 feet deep, and a re-known bass fishery once thought to hold a potential world record. But excessive Tilapia farming is changing the lake ecology and affecting everything from snails to eagles to Bass. I considered the history of our own fisheries that are now largely non-native species after we wiped out most native populations before the turn of the 20th century. Tilapia are native to Africa and the Middle East where they have been farmed since the time of the pharaohs.
The day was long and hot with four to five hours of climbing before descending into the once colonial capitol of Honduras, Comayagua. I checked into a hotel at dark and began a feverish sleep that would last the next 24 hours. I roused briefly one morning to walk around the quaint colonial city in search of decent coffee and ATM before going back to bed. The Comayagua cathedral is home to the second oldest functioning clock in the world that was a gift of Phillip II in the 1600's though the clock dates from the mid-1400's. I was given a tour of the bell tower and mechanisms that connect the clock to the bells. The beginning of time as we know it was alone worth the trip to Comayagua. Other than that I did little in Comayagua except try to get better, initially to sick to write or even read. wires run to the bells in the tower the cathedrals reflection in mosaic on the central plaza

After four nights I was well enough to ride and left town past t he US military base (now under a Honduran flag) that was key to our ignominious history of the 1980's in Central America from El Salvador to Nicaragua and it made me wonder what we are up to now . . . reminded me of a bumper sticker from the 1980's - “ it is midnight, do you know where your US Marines are”? I resumed climbing for a blazing hot 100km day that included crossing the Continental Divide before beginning my final descent of the day into Tegucigalpa, a city of 1.2 million and capitol of Honduras. I flew into the city off the mountains easily going as fast or faster than the congested three to four lanes of traffic weaving around buses and cabs. Houses seem to tumble over each other as they scramble over hillsides and mountain ridges in a two or three story organic mass rising up from the bowl of the city. I check into a hotel once again to exhausted to write before getting up to begin again.


After the best complimentary breakfast of my trip I climb my way out of Tegucigalpa towards Danli, my last stop before the Nicaraguan border. I climb some more pine covered mountains that remind me of Colorado and pass through a beautiful farming valley that is home to Honduras' world famous agricultural school, founded by the president of the United Fruit Company. I am getting better with the heat and humidity stopping often for food and drink. My lunch stop provided me with a front row seat to the butchering of a steer.







I ran out of daylight and finished up the last hour of riding in the dark before rolling into the charming agricultural community of Danli, home to the Honduran tobacco industry, after 100+km. I am comfortable here so I decided to spend the day and strap on the feed bag. Tomorrow I will be in Nicaragua.

The Honduran Coup

Trying to make sense of the attempted June 28, 2009 coup in Honduras was not an easy task in the United States and has not been much easier here. However, I am leery of anything that invokes the "leftest boogie man of south," Hugo Chavez, for the use of military force against civilians, the muzzling of a free press, and the illegal forced exile of a president. Especially, in a nation with 30 years of democratic rule. One thing is clear if you read graffiti - the coup did not have popular support. I am riding by a never ending banner of anti-golpistas graffiti. Yet, neither side seems especially popular politically. Jose Manuel Zelaya Rosales was elected President as a member of an oligarchic center right party then half way through his term became a chavista (that's the rhetoric). No matter your opinion on the politics that is a turn around bound to piss someone off! 65% of the Honduran population lives on less that 2 dollars a day, unemployment is around 28%, they have the highest rate of HIV infection in Central America, as well as the highest rates of youth violence associated with the drug trade. Meanwhile, the Honduran oligarchy holds a lock on the government and media. Just these facts alone go a long ways towards explaining the overwhelming show of force by private security in the pleasant leafy green neighborhoods of San Pedro Sula. A recipe for unrest.
I cannot recount the events of the entire coup but, briefly, President Zelaya seemed to do three things to anger established powers:
1. After a confrontation with the United States over monopolistic oil import policies Zelaya turned to Petrocaribe (Venezuela) and secured a very favorable deal for cheap gasoline.
2. Zelaya proposed and congress approved (2008) joining the Bolivarian Alliance for the Americas (Venezuela) as an alternative to the Free Trade Area of the Americas (USA) - the Honduran congress has since rescinded this agreement in 2010.
3. Raised the minimum wage to just under ten dollars a day (gasp).
4. Proposed a non-binding popular poll asking whether or not to have a constitutional convention that may have given voice to discontent.
The last action was declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court and Congress and for this Zelaya could be impeached and removed from office. However, this did not occur because the military broke into the Presidential residence and extra-judicially deported him to Costa Rica, an action clearly illegal - hence the coup d'etat. The coup crisis was concluded with the election and inauguration of a new president Porfirio Lobo Sosa on January 26,2010.

If you want read about this on your own the Boston Globe has a photo essay called the "Big Picture." The photography is excellent and the comments following are equally interesting but not always clarifying:
http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2009/07/the_honduran_coup_detat.html

Also I found the blog "Honduras Coup 2009" great for clarifying the constitutional issues and politics behind the coup by a variety of journalists and legal scholars:
http://hondurascoup2009.blogspot.com/2009/10/inaccurate-arguments-about.html

While looking up statistics on wealth distribution for Honduras, I tripped across some of ours . . . in terms of financial wealth the top 1% held 43% (bank accounts, stocks, bonds, etc.) and the bottom 80% had 7% . . . that is the USA . . . of course this should not be a surprise when you consider that half the USA makes $30,000 or less a year.

Honduras

The weather is a little hot and humid and has given me prickly heat so i looked it up online:
"Prickly heat can be prevented by avoiding activities that induce sweating, using air conditioning to cool the environment,wearing light clothing and in general, avoiding hot and humid weather. Frequent cool showers or cool baths with mild soap can help to prevent heat rash."
Does not sound like bike touring will help . . . but it seems to be passing.I got one last boat ride from Grant in his lancha from the Marios Marina to Fronteras and we parted ways. Grant is a lot of fun. I am thinking of sailing with him to Cuba next winter if time allows . . . but time to pedal off with typical crack of noon start over the tallest bridge in Central America. The distance was shorter than it appeared so i was at the Guatemalan border by late afternoon after rolling past a lot of fruit. International border crossing can be intimidating and not friendly places. However, this is not the case with Guatemala. They do not get many touring cyclists at this border and I was an instant celebrity as officials kept emerging from the immigration shack to check out my ride. Finally, i had to leave because it was going to be dark in an hour and i am sure they had something else to do with the fifty or so trucks lined up . . . or not.
I spent the night in Corinto, Honduras at a hotel and continued on my way towards the Honduran coast passing more fruit plantations or "fincas" with names like "Kickapoo" and "Chinook." Not very latin, sounds more like a summer camp, but not. Reminded me of videos i showed in my classes of Hondurans being beaten, shot, and gassed because they wanted higher wages (or simply wages) on these fincas. Honduras is poor, poor enough that Mexicans feel sorry for them, that's poor. However, the countryside is beautiful with tall steep mountains,clear rivers, and good roads.
Along the way I notice squatter type settlements beside the road but they seem formally organized . . . probably for the people picking fruits or serving tourists along the beaches. Also, i have not seen a single man hole cover but lots of holes that you really have to watch for on a bike because they are in the middle of the street.






I stopped along the coast in the little town of Omoa to grab a bite of ceviche before continuing onwards into San Pedro Sula to replace my bottom bracket that was clicking away.



Honduras recently suffered an attempted military coup after 30 years of democratic governance. However, the coup failed due to popular uprising as well as pressure from Latin American nations. Yet, all does not seem well. People were protesting in the central plaza of San Pedro Sula or rather someone was ranting while everyone sat around and listened. If you look at the cathedral you can see big splotches of red paint and some of the windows were recently broken. The Catholic church, in typical fashion, did not condemn the coup attempt thereby granting legitimacy to the attempted oligarchic takeover. However, it did not go unnoticed. Private armed security is everywhere - even small restaurants have two guards, one inside to unlock the door for you and one outside with a weapon. Pistol grip sawed off shotguns loaded with buckshot are common - they make me more nervous than any crime! Outside stores security stands around with pistols tucked into their belts or long machetes hanging off their waists. I have been around hired guns before but this is a little over the top . . . i assume there is a reason. But I have felt safe in the tree lined middle class neighborhood where the hostel is located. And the two resident terriers have been excellent company - last night one slept on my bed while the other slept under.
Off to Lago Yojoa, Honduras' largest lake, surrounded by mountains, waterfalls, and . . . a microbrewery! Man, what i would give for a Sierra Nevada pale ale . . .