On July 15, I crossed the Gulf of Honduras from Beliz to Puerto Barrios, Guatemala. The port was very busy but there was no sign of the Customs Office. I was directed to a plain building about two blocks away. The Customs Officer asked me how long I was going to stay, stamped my passport and I was on my way.

         I tried two banking machines along the way but they would not work with my banking card. I was approached by an American who offered to show me around the town for a price. He told me he was stranded in Puerto Barrios and was trying to earn enough money to get back to California. On the way to another bank, we found a bike shop where I left my front tire to be fixed. The American introduced me to three girls and they all went with me to a local internet service. I stocked up on food and water, had lunch, picked up my tire and made my way out of town.

         As I headed to Guatemala City, the traffic of trucks, cars and buses was unbelievable. There was a paved shoulder to ride on but, with no mirror and the constant blaring of horns, it was a nerve-wracking ride. I set up camp on a path leading to a mountainous area. In the morning, as I was preparing breakfast, two gentlemen were heading up the mountain to pick avocados and mangos. They said it was dangerous to camp there but I did not understand if the danger was from humans, animals or insects.

         That day, I passed through many little towns and the valley started to narrow. I could see in the distance, the mountains that I was going to have to climb. On July 17, riding along the Motagua River, the climb up the mountains started. That night, I was desperate to find a place to camp so I found a pit on private property that had a fence around it, opened the gate and went in.

         The next day, as the climb continued, I passed through La Palmilla and on into El Rancho Junction. Everyone who saw me started to laugh. Apparently, laughing is a normal response to everything in this part of the world, but on some days I was not in the mood for it. I stocked up on food and continued the climb. There was no longer a paved shoulder to ride on and the road narrowed to two lanes. Climbing up the mountain in the heat had exhausted me so I stopped by the side of the road for a rest when two police officers stopped to look at the bike. They were very friendly and congratulated me on my trip. I struggled further up the mountain and found a path that led off to a cleared area. After getting set up, I climbed a ridge to look at the view but, on the way down, I slipped and scrapped my back and elbow. That night, I was in pain and unable to lie on my back or left elbow.