Day 60: Helen's Hotel, just east of La Ceiba, Honduras to Juticalpa, Honduras

With a new route laid out, we headed away from Helen's at a good clip on smooth pavement twisting along between the coast and the mountain range lying inland no more than a mile. It feels good to be back on the road with the hum of the engine below and the ocean air wafting through the open face of the helmet. We headed first southeast and then west before turning due south on Route 41.



Honduras Route 41 is a wonderful road: not a spot of pavement for 100 miles of twisting mountain road that must have taken us to at least 6000 feet of elevation. For the most part it is a wide smooth surface meandering along lush mountainsides but it doesn't take long for you see why it's been built that way: large boulders block half the road in places where the hillside above the road has given way. At one point we came around a corner to see bulldozder blocking our path, purposefully ploughing the remains of a very recent landslide in such a way as to recreate the road.

The little village of La Union was our lunch stop with a typical meal of fried chicken, red beans, rice, cheese, and tortillas. You know when you walk into a place and they have that jar on the table of some delicacy that they know only a few people will try? Well this was one of those places and the jar was full of hundreds of tiny red, orange and green peppers mixed together with some carrots and onions. Of course I had to try one. So with ample food and beverage standing by to help me get through the next 10 minutes, I nibbled at one of the orange verieties and quickly found that the tip of my tongue no longer had any feeling. With the nice woman who ran the place warning me that they were muy, muy, muy caliente, I chewed up the rest of the pepper and held onto my glass bottled Pepsi as my mouth began to burn. If I could have had a couple of these back on Utila, my sinus issues would have been history in 20 minutes.

Who just rode 80 miles of twisty mountain roads?

The second half of the day had an interesting thing to it: everywhere we happened to stop, there was someone who spoke English, and they were Hondurans, not other travelers.

Day 59: La Ceiba, Honduras to Helen's Hotel, just east of La Ceiba, Honduras

With our gear somewhat aired out overnight, we packed up and headed out of La Ceiba via the most direct southern route the International Travel Map of Honduras showed. The Dutch guy who runs Amsterdam 2001 warned us that the road was not maintained, but if he knew who he was talking to he would have known that those were the magic words we were looking for; unmaintained mountain roads is what we live for. Or so we thought. After a little more than 30 kilomiters of climbing a twisty dirt road scattered with mountainside villages and beautiful vistas of the surrounding mountains and gushing river below, we found ourselves deadended into a narrow walking path heading steeply up the mountainside and a group a locals telling us it was not possible tocross the mountains on the bikes, only on foot. We figured these guys must know what they were talking about so, with a bit of remorse, we turned around for the mostly unpowered 30+ km back down to La Ceiba. It was all worth it though.



On the way back down we noticed several schools along the way and decided to stop at one of them and unload some dead weight we've been carrying with us since Texas: a bunch of pencils, crayons and small notebooks. We were greeted by the missonaries (a couple from Florida and a guy from Washington) that run the Chirstian school and they agreed to distribute the materials to a school that needed them most.

At the suggestion of the missionaries, we headed east from La Ceiba and stopped for the night at Helen's Hotel and Resturante; a beachside hotel paradise and the most expensive accomadations we've had in a long time: US$30. You can't stay at a place like this for $30 in the US, that's for sure.

Day 58: Utila, Honduras to La Ceiba, Honduras

Last night we saw yet another side of Utila that we had yet to see during our time there: night life. With much of our time in Utila spent diving, preparing to dive or just trying to feel well, we didn't go out in the evenings. But with no obligations for the following morning (except maybe trying to catch the 6:20am ferry), we headed out to a place called Treetanic; a watering hole from another world. Words cannont capture the experience but here's an attempt at a description: the dream of a Californian dude, 8 years of construction, more glasswork than you'll find in any 500 year old church, more than a dozen areas to chill in each with it's own unique elevation and vibe, the swankyest restrooms I have ever seen, and the bar itself in a treehouse 15 feet off the ground.

Needless to say, we did not make it onto the 6:20am ferry. We did however make the 2pm and finally left the Bay Islands behind.

Back at Amsterdam 2001, the backpackers in La Ceiba, we were happy to find our motorcycles right where we left them with all of our gear cases still mounted up. We were a bit surprised to find that 2 weeks of weather had managed to find it's way into our cases and a healthy dose of fuzzys had taken up residence. yummy.

Here's a few from Amsterdam 2001:

Day 57: Utila, Honduras

I don't think we've documented our time on Utila very well in pictures. Today I change that.












Today I finished up my advanced diver course with two dives, the first being an underwater photography dive. Here are a few of my favorites:

That's a Green Moray in the center here:




Mr. Perrotfish


The ever-elusive Fairy Baslets

Woah, now that's a fish (ie that's me)




When we arrived back on Utila from today's diving, we had only a few minutes to pull our stuff together, put the diving photos on a cd, pay for my course, and catch the ferry at 2pm. At 1:55 we walked out to the dock only to see the frothing trail behind the ferry which had left a few minutes before. Crap.

As I lay in bed last night, I felt sad that after spending as much time as we have here, I hadn't really seen much of the island. Now with hours to kill and another night on the island I had my chance. I walked clear across the island and back, just me and my camera. The "other side" is quite a contrast to the moped/atv dodging hustle bustle scene on main street.










I returned to the inhabited side of the island just in time to watch the sun sneak below the horizon.

-Colin