Closing Remarks

Machu Picchu and Life as We Know It

So, life goes on as our trip nears its end. Currently we are sitting around in La Paz, Bolivia; home to Condors and Salt Flats. These last few weeks cum months have flown by, and it seems the relative risk we are willing to take to get a travel buzz has also risen exponentially. Given that I'm feeling a little sick (just overcame some serious shakes and chills) I'll keep this brief by starting where my limited short term memory can still put together a cohesive string of events; that being two weeks ago the 27th of Dec, Cusco, Peru.
It was a long and misserable bus ride which took us from Lima through Puno to Cusco (direct never means direct when your paying 1/2 of the leading competitors price), and when we finally arrived (27 hours later), we were that familiar combination of stoked, exhasted and badly needing a crapper. Making our way to the Loki hostal located on top of a miniature mountian overlooking the impressionable city of Cusco, we considered our options: 1) Make for machu Picchu before New Years, essentially rushing things and leaving little time for planning; 2) Leave after New Years, drastically diverting from our now irrelavent travel plan; 3) Screw it, watch a BBC documentary, and keep going to La Paz.
Through fate more than rational decision we ended up opting for #2 (Though I'd be lying if I said that #3 wasn't looking ridiculously attractive to me at this point). So, as life usually goes, Chris met a beautiful Chilean expat currently vacationing in Cuzco from Lima while dancing late into the night (also our first night in town, did I mention the bus was 27 hours?), I, on the more respectable / "having slightly less game" side of things instead opted to begin planning our trip to the big M.P. Examining the available options, it soon became apparent to me that one could do the same trip being offered by the numerous tour operators, with less cost, and the near guarantee of becoming lost several times in the Peruvian Andes. Naturally it appealed to both Chris and I. Soon, others became interested in our little trip, and before long we had 15 eager (albeit misinformed) trekkers representing Israel, Argentina, Great Britain, Canada and the States. Did I mention that there was no guide? Yeah. So. Through the usual progression of planning 4 day epic treks through the wild unknown, people naturally had their own ideas of what "makes" the ideal Machu Picchu trek. Trying to appease everyone, we began organizing two excursions, first, a limited entry overnight downhill biking adventure in a massive 4wd diesel pickup with 6 bikes and 7 people (Sadly, Chris being with his beau, this left sans one intrepid panamerican explorer). It was a good time, and through a mixture of happenstance and pure, unbridled travelling savvy, we ended up on top of some random mountain, sleeping beside a monastery (with the monks permission obviously) and killing it down 1.5 kms of gnarly terraces, streams and drops. Using the truck as a chair lift, we managed to maximize both ride time and extreme factor. The next day we did time trials down a nearby road and explored the surrounding countryside (During which I accidentally tsunamied a kid carrying veggies back home to mom... chico, if you read this, lo siento) .
Okay, finally to the real shiz. Despite a rocky start to our M.P. trek (8 of 15 people having no way to return home... due to 2 very special (barf in my mouth) people (you know who you are), we left in two chartered buses for Santa Maria, a small town apparently inaccessible due to a recent landslide. Upon making our first way point, it was time for a little orienteering, at which point it became evident that nobody could really place us on our exquisitely detailed (though apparently too far south) topo map. Following the advice of locals, we made our way down to a river, through a ghost town, and across to Town X (First memory blank). At this point I confronted the group with two options, 1) head over the massive mountain that separated us from our 1st night goal, 2) keep following the ground level path which would inevitably lead us to the same location, though considerably more slowly. Being as it was that this group actually decided to trek with a clueless Canadian through territory unknown, their risk propensity made the decision to huck the mountain an obvious one. About 2 hours in a 15 mins before sunset, a mixture of two screaming mountain women (both apparently wanting us to camp at their homes, and both accusing each other of being thieves), the complete exhaustion of several party members, and no foreseeable end nor camping site, we decided to turn around, descending the mountain in the dark, our fumbling movements heckled constantly by local dogs, parrots and one very persistent Peruvian mountain woman. The path was quite difficult (even without our lack of adequate lighting) and our regression slow. We made town X by 8 or 9 and camped out in a vacant football field. Spirits remained high, and with some food and plenty of wine, we slept and dreamt collectively of the misadventures to come.
Rising with the light, I was amazed by the hell we razed in a mere 10 hours; camp, and the surrounding "debris" would take us till 11 to fully packup, not that this was the limiting factor on the days progress. Quite the opposite, like the day before, again we spent the better part of 3 hours hiking another random mountain, only to turn back (I, being the genius that I am, decided to run ahead to see if indeed the path would lead anywhere, 20 minutes running directly uphill into the thin mountain air later, with throat nearly closed due to hypercardio exertion, decided to turn back. Later I learnt the path would have lead via 3 day hike to a fairly pristine mountain lake know by locals for its trout fishing). Eventually the path became more obvious, and soon we found ourselves part of that sordid mess which is organized tour hiking. With a trial of gringos stretching like ants to the horizon, we made our way to St Teresa, where we stopped at a particularly delightful hotspring which, conveniently, allowed camping. Taking a combi with Chrissy and Ari to the local meat and booze market, we returned heroes with 4kg of fresh meat, salad materials, and a large bottle of rum (for more stories relating to the latter purchase, ask me in person). Somehow, (I don't think anyone in our party knows for sure) the nights festivities led to many lost articles of clothing, camping gear and dignity. Waking to both wet tents and throbbing heads (Not mine, naturally) we opted to take a combi to the nearby town... (train stop?) of Hidroelectrica. It was during this trip in which my master plan of starting an Argentine gang, AST (Assesinos de San Telmo), which robs tourists from the barrio of San Telmo took hold, and the argentines where quick to sign on. Arriving in Hidroelectrica, the group divided in a very unequal 2, with 5 of us opting to hike up to Aguas Calientes (The remainder choosing rail transportation). Somewhere in the first 300 meters, I decided it would be a good idea to race the train to the top whilst trying to break the time record for hike. 1.5 hours of pain later, I and one of our Argentine friends reached the top. The train was delayed. No contest.
Five Pizzas later (Between Chris and I), we hit the sack, and slept with the sweet knowledge that we would wake at 4 and begin a straight vertical hike to Machu Picchu.
And so it began, that at 4am en punto our group, gathering like the perculated drops of coffee through a paticuallary fine grind, left in the darkness for the final phase of the inca trail. The assent was steep and I kept rear guard, helping motivate a sad trio of Argentines towards the top. When we finally arrived, the line of sombrero wearing gringos ushered to the top by busses streched into the 500s. Seeing a freind near the front, I naturally snaked my way into the top 50. When the gates opened (Yes, suprisingly like disney land) we made for the base of Wayna Picchu like bandits, as only the first 200 are admitted. My American friend Eric and I hiked con prisa and we arove withing the initial 13 at the top of the world. Overlooking Machu Picchu on the arguably more spectacular peak of Wayna Picchu, it dawned upon us that some Off-Piste exploration was in order, and we descended sin sendero down the rocky crags and towards the boiling clouds below. Seeing several rarely seen before carvings, walls and stairs, our trek took us down the wrong side of the mountain, without water, to where the jungle again became thick, and I could hear the river from the previous day's hike. The uphill was a battle, and, in culmination with the stupidity of running up a mounting "scouting" and trying to set new speed records with a train, it proved too much for my ankles, essentially destroying my achelies for the following three days and rendering me unable to walk. Machu Picchu was indeed gorgeous, but falls victem by the classic dialectic of people wanting to see something beautiful whilst destroying it with their presence. Pics should be up in the viewer thing on Picasa to the right...
We ended the day with a bus ride, followed by a uneventfull train ride, followed by a cramped combi shuttle back to Loki in Cusco. In all it was a riot. Would I do it again? Yeah, but I'd probably opt to take a helicopter to the top.

Cheers, and, sorry for no updates, this is South America, and belive me, when you try to upload the same videos 4 to 5 times without sucess, it discourages future efforts.
B

Catching up in Peru- we sold our car!... a month ago.

Dear family, friends and anyone who may be following our trip,

I must first apologize for our lack of postings and updates of our trip thus far. However in doing so, I would have to apologize for the accessibilty and quality of internet throughout Latin America.

Currently we are in Piura, Peru awaiting a bus to Lima where we can hopefully meet up with our buddy Chad for a day or two. Lets take a few steps back though, as it had come to our attention that you guys dont even know that we sold our car.. err.. nearly a month ago. But if you thought we parked it on the boat with captain insano, you would have been mistaken.

Our first attempt to sell our car took place in Costa Rica. We decided (regretably) to head towards a border town to pitch the sale to a few used car lots. Since we generally move to places at high speeds we thought it would be a good idea to summit a mountain which- we later found out was called the Sierra of Death- late at night. Hm. And we did summit the mountain that night.. through thick fog, windy roads and uncomfortably large potholes.. only to reach the top and be turned around by the police. So we spent the night sleeping (more along the lines of laying awake with our eyes shut) in the car, in a random mountain village. I woke up around 5am to find three white hooded men walking past our car - KKK style. Needless to say we peeled out of the town dukes of hazard style in the pursuing seconds. Thankfully the police let us through the blockade at that hour. Unthankfully our car was running on fumes so we had to coast down the hill and slid into a gas station. Filled ´er up and headed down the road to find some car lots. But. The car began making spuratic thrusts forward. Our baby was unhappy and the purr of our diesel engine had transformed into some sort of a mechanical gargle. After coasting (yeah there was alot of downhill action) to a few different mechanics* (*note- here each mechanic knows a single piece of the car and that is it. So if you havent the slightest idea of what your problem is, youre punked). The radiator man, engine man and clutch man all turned us away and we eventually hit the diesel man, who decided to take a look under the hood. Pulled apart the fuel injection line and gave her a sniff check. He was quick to point out our car had been filled with gasoline that morning -oh wow. After a bit of hasseling and a tow truck (and free ride in the big rig) we made it back to the gas station where the syphon mechanic sucked our fuel out with his mouth. With the uproar in car problems we decided it was time to put forth a huge effort to selling our car. And we did - nearly sold it that afternoon, but lost the sale on the way to the bank. I think we had the tri fecta of bad circumstance on our side - christmas, the economy, and sketchy car that was bleeding black smoke out the exhaust after the gasoline incident (sorry girl!). We ripped out (as fast as a 52 hp car full of unnecessary gear could go) of Costa Rica and into Panama with hopes of better luck.

And luck is what we found in David, Panama. Sold the car to a man at the aduana (customs office) and closed the deal in one afternoon. Probably a record by Canadian standards let alone siesta driven countries. In fact most foreigners have to end up ditching their cars on side roads because they cannot sell it in time! Heroes? Business Students?.. Probably just really lucky. I must say though, it was pretty depressing saying bye to the Blueish/Greyish + misc. rust coloured stallion. But we were ready to embark on the whole backpacking adventuresque thing.

So after Pan City, we made our way to Puerto Linda where we met up that skinny, greasy, disgusting,miserable being- Ape.

*INSERT B´s STORY OF THE HIGH SEAS*

I think we have recovered by this point. Upset stomachs have subsided, seasickness washed away and nightmares of being held captive on the vessel have been replaced with dreams of gorgeous Colombian women. Since Cartagena we have been kicking it pretty hard on the bus maybe 20 hrs straight, then taking a day to recover. Bs birthday was pretty fun too - street burgs, a cream cheese pizza that made us want to vomit, a bottle of wine and an entire cake (of course he had feliz compleanos benjamin scribbled on haha). So pretty well a carb load night.

Ecuador was fast, and moderately furious. The bus travelling has been progressively sketchier and ghettoer (not sure if that is a word) but it is quite reminicient of our car travel days. On one bus ride we grew massive headaches due to a strange smell. But when smoke started creeping us from the floor, it made sense. The bus broke down and we had to wait 3 hrs for a new one to be sent. Our patience for these kind of things has grown tremendously, so it wasnt a big deal. When the new bus showed up, it was full of other passangers. Being polite Canadians.. we alternated sleeping on the bus floor the entire night. Miserable. But Id like to think generosity goes a long way here too! People are friendly folk, so it has worked out well.

Anyways thats about all the time I have for storytelling. Lots more to catch up on, and hopefully you´ll be able to when we get around to posting videos. The plan is to get caught up by the new year! ... but thats being pretty ambitious.

All the best, and happy holidays to all,
Besos.
Chris

Nightmare on the High Seas

Also known as:
How I nearly killed an evil pirate named Ape

We have just come out the other side of 8 days of hell. No exaggeration. Our sail was supposed to be 5 days, 4 nights, with 2 days just chilling on tropical islands. Reality was a far cry from our expectations.
We boarded a small boat with just Chris, a dutch captian (named Ape, ironically fitting... some foreshadowing for you) and I; he seemed uber nice to start, a little shy or introverted maybe, but nothing abnormal. We had heard that traveling on larger boats (with several other passengers) could be very trying (as sea sickness and close proximity don´t go very well together), so this appeared to accomodate us well. It was the captians first trip with passengers (which in retrospect should have been a warning sign, but we thought it would just keep him from being jaded to the whole experience).
First 3 days at sea were fine. We sailed out of Puerto Lindo (small town in northern Panama) and it took us 24 hours straight to make it to San Blas (Supposedly a one day or 12h sail). Alternating watch for 24 hours is not very fun, but in the beginning it had a certain novelty to it. Only later did we realize the other 3 ships making the identical journey all left during the afternoon and arrived before 12pm. Something was definately up.
We left San Blas after two relatively chill days of snorkling, but already our captian was getting a bit strange. Apparently he neglected to tell us he was an alcoholic (beer during day, rum at night), chain smoking (3-4 packs a day), drug addict (5-6 joints a day?). So anyways, little strange up to this point because he hadn´t used the engine (because he said ¨real sailors just use the wind, so thats what we´ll do¨) but in reality, it was because there we serious problems with the gas tanks and fuel lines, rendering the engine unreliable at best. Anyhow, after 36 hours of sailing directly into the wind (2 knots is a very, very slow speed in 10 foot seas) against the advice of the 3 other capitans (who were apparently ¨assholes¨ for giving him advice) we decided to just make for the Colombian coast (arriving somewhere to the west of San Bernardo de Viento, or not far from the dangerous part of Colombia). However our main issue was the capitan, his personality was irratic, decicions contantly shifting, we changed course possibly 4 times without any indication that the wind was changing. And worst of all, he was totally accusational, calling us down (like ¨you are stupid, you can´t even communicate, why don´t you listen, you are idiots, etc¨- examples givin sin choice expletives) even though 90% of the time it was his instructions that we inaccurate. Anyhow, he threatened to turn around to San Blas several times, and said that there was no way we could make it to Cartegena. At this point I told him that if we didn´t make it to Cartegena, I expected a refund in part, due to his neglegence in accepting a charter without a seaworthy ship and failing to deliver on a charter that is completed daily by similar boats. He flipped and things were very downhill from there. Food was running low, and the engine completely broke as we slowly headed north west. We sighted land for the first time off of Tolú, to which I offered to get off of the boat in the port (even though its a sketchy area, FARC infested, and we would be traveling illegaly) as he was becoming more and more confrontational, to the point where Chris and I were always prepared to defend ourselves (phisically, not just verbally, I was constantly scanning for weapons and moved my hunting knife beside my bed). Initially he agreed, and we were very hopeful that it would stick, but just as the port came into view (a two hour detour) he changed his small, fickle mind, and turned in the opposite direction, back out into sea and away from the coast; away from our only hope.
You´ve got to understand that it was not possible to question this man´s motives nor give an opinion, he would go snapcase at a moments notice.
Anyhow, we limped out into the sea, and really rough waves started to happen, like 10 foot seas in the middle of the night when you are on you watch (a local phenomenon to our boat). In during a paticullary long watch (of his) I offered to stay up and keep him company (being my diplomatic self), he asked if I could take the helm, something I had done many times before, and I said sure, that I would do my very best. And I did. There was no moon, no way to watch the compass, just a GPS screen with a bearing and a few scattered stars. I steered for an hour and a half with him intermittantly checking on me. At the end he came out and started swearing at me (using words I will not repeat here), as I had gotten .01 degrees off course (something he routinely would do, and in fact, completely unavoidable). Man, I stood up for myself (because at this point we were literally being held against our will by a hostile entity), I told him several things in my defense (that I was doing my best, that you need to make mistakes while learning, etc, though in much, much stronger language... actually, I don´t think I´ve sworn at another human being like that before in my life) Anyhow, he came down into the cabin and started to come at us with a flashlight, to which we got up in his face, and let him know succinctly that we wouldn´t hesitate to defend ourselves (I believe I said: ¨choke you to death¨) should he threaten us again. To which he started verbally abusing Chris (who was battling the effects of a poor diet, rampant sea sickness, diarreah and wild blood sugar swings). Chris was infuriated, but managed to keep his composure. Secretly we were both planning situations to overthrow him should things get more dire (think high-seas mutiny) and I had studied how to sail sufficiently that I was positive I could make it to shore somewhere. It came to a head when at 4 am, he stormed into the cabin and accused us of talking (I had asked Chris how he was feeling as he had taken a pill, literally one sentence, not that a conversation would have been unjustified), I retorted he could go and *expletive* himself. He yelled that the boat was now headed for San Blas (A two day sail from where we were, possibly farther, with no options to get off for another day afterwards). We both rose with murder in our eyes and in our hearts, advanced on him and before we got our hands on him, he said he was joking (catigorically false, I later checked the GPS coordinates). Given the scarcity of food, and now fresh water, the non-functionality of the engine, and our total lack of autonomy, it would have been a near death sentence.
We continued to sail, and the next day worked on the engine. I broke the end off of my fishing rod to clean the lines of the Gas tank, and it worked (One, the empty one of two tanks). We continued, sailing 24 hours a day, minimal food and water. No communication besides intermittant verbal battles, and I continued to always sleep with a weapon nearby. Any moment this mofo was near the knives, I was on high alert.
Then the wind died. We were about a days sail (80 knots) off of Cartegena, and there was nothing. Heat of the day, 4 hours later, water running thin, I dispaired. I got out my bible and started praying hard. Nothing. No response. Then I flipped to a verse in Corithians that my grandparents gave me (when they gave me the bible a few months before the travel started) and moved on to anything ¨weather related¨- think Jesus calms the sea of Galilee (could be wrong, correct me if your religously minded and care enough to do so ;)) . Then came wind. We managed to sail 5 knots an hour in the right direction (favourable wind for the first time in our trip) and after steering solo for 5 hours, made sight of land. The next day wind was in the wrong direction again, so I prayed it would stop. It (or chance - take it as you will) worked. Dead calm and we used the motor the rest of the way (12 knots distance). Sailing into Cartegena I could have cried (as I nearly did several times during the voyage). We got in last night, after the customs had closed, but we left the ship without our passports (which we retreaved today, with entry stamps). Man we ate two dinners (consecutively, large pizza + full burger combos) and although all of my clothes are mildewed and rank, we are finally free and happy.
So, in short, an adventure, but also without a doubt the worst time I have exprienced in my life.
So, thats my take on it. Long, but not exaggerated (which is not characteristic of me, but hey, why try hard when you don´t have to? Cross check with Chris if you don´t believe me).
I´ll link this later to lonley planet where I plan on libeling this capitan Ape a fair bit, and hopefully he eventually stumbles upon this page. Should you be reading this, Ape, have a nice life; on the upside, you have ample room for self improvement. Don´t ever try to contact me.
Cheers,
B

Special Update: Extreme Palenque

Heyyo! Just got into Panama yesterday... today we begin the long and arduous process of selling the car.  Currently we got 3 options: 1) Sell it to a used car lot, they cover import taxes; 2) Bring it to a wrecker and get exit stamped as having been in a accident; 3) Leave it with an Aduana, they get to keep the car when we don't come back in 6 months... We see how this starts to shake down today.

Missing home a bit now, but definately ready to get out of Central America and into the south. Something about having to get out of paying bribes with every other "Official" is starting to get a bit wearing. Eventually we'll post an updated budget so anyone else whose attempting something like this can have a benchmark. So far we're pretty close to being on mark...

Uploading two vids today, #1 is of Palenque, the massive ruins up in Chiapas, Mexico. It includes a plethora of interesting facts by yours truely. #2 Covers our missadventure trying to cross to Tikal in Guatemala. Road was innundated. 15 hour detour. You get the picture. 

Let us know how life is with you. 

Cheers,

B

 

VID #1: Palenque, Extreme!

VID #2: Getting out of Mexico...

Retrospect: The road to Ixtapa

Yo, currently we are sitting in the Black Cat hostal in Antigua Guatemala. Although we tried to explore Pacaya yesterday, our car overheated comming up a giant mountian and we had to turn around. Apparently a combination of crappy gear ratio, thin air and lower boiling point conspired against us. Today we make for the Guatemalan / Hunduran border, and we hope to set ourselves down in Copan beside the border.  This video, albeit a ways back, takes place between Mazatlan and Ixtapa; nearly 4 weeks ago! Enjoy. And please shoot us some feedback! :)

Greatpanamerican CRIBS: Ixtapa Edition!

Hey everyone, Well B and I are here in Xela (Quetzaltenango… now you know why everyone uses Xela) for 2 weeks of intensive language school. I suppose the last time we had contact was as we were exiting Palenque. Well we definitely did not make it to Flores the next day. Get this- the road was flooded; prompting a 14 hr. detour south. The one night, for fear of Chiapas post dusk, we slept in this little village (complete with cockroaches and all) off the side of the road; a polar opposite experience to what you guys are about to watch in our CRIBS episode. But that is what makes this trip so unique… and enjoyable. Originally we were told that Chiapas was supposed to be one of the most intensive legs of our trip… and after completing the entire perimeter (not by choice)… we emerged with all of our limbs intact. I have to say Chiapas has one of the most breathe taking landscapes in Mexico.

The Guatemalan border was intense as could be. In fact we had to cross the border back into Mexico to get exit stamps… after our car had to get fumigated? However the people here are genuine and amable. We are treated like Canadians here… and not Gringos! Food here has been interesting. For the first time in my life I can say I am supplementing my diet with McDonalds… just to survive. Beans have yet to get old- actually we have been using the ´Frijole´ standard as a basis of meal costs.

I also must give a shout out to our buddy Rance who we met here in Xela almost two weeks ago- a trio of trouble for a while.

I must say that B and I are still getting along quite well. We have spent the past two weeks apart in separate houses, as well as different teachers at school. So I kinda miss the guy! (Hopefully he isn’t at his house sharpening that giant hunting knife as I write this).

Anyways, I could ramble on for hours… but you id like to save some stories for future video posts. What you are about to watch is a video of our place in Ixtapa, Mexico… about two and a half weeks ago. Enjoy J

Take care all,
Chris

PS. A piece of advice when you travel with another man for this long and I am positive B will agree:
-Tabasco/ Hot sauce rule: When you eat beans as frequently as we have been, hot sauce has been the icing on the cake. However, one can only sauce depending on two factors
1) The weather- whether or not you can open the windows in the car
2) The quantity of toilet paper left in the car- self explanatory…..

Catching up at Palenque... (B's reflections)

Hey All, we´ve been travelling pretty heavy lately, hence the lack of info... Today we just arrived at Palenque (google it!) its one of the largest mayan ruins anywhere... Its massive, and the carvings and tombs, temples and towers all leave quite the impression. Chris and I got off of the beaten track and explored some yet to be uncovered homes. It was sweet, imagine thick jungle encroaching upon the crumbling remains of 1 to 2 story homes... We even got into a few hallways in these old buildings, and, despite the fist sized spiders and strange jungle mold (alright, maybe because of), our exploration was a blast! We emerged with some sweet stone glyphs we found ontop of a unrestored house (and although I would prefer you to think of me as a looter, in reality they are the discarded imitations that locals hawk to tourists...)

Tomorrow we cross into Guatemala near to Flores, and there we hope to start up to two weeks of intense language study. Im mad stoked, although more than suficient for a tourist, my spanish is hardly traveller quality. Thats something that Ive been thinking about quite a bit down here: the difference between a traveller and a tourist, if there is one. For some reason, I find myself naturally prejudiced against the other gringos down here, even though I am more than aware that they are simply looking for a little adventure, just like us! It seems that the feeling is mutual, and that a bit of a cold haze has fallen amoungst all of our parties, the locals see us a white conglomerate to exploit, the gringos see locals as parisitic, and gringos treat each other as though thier mutual pressence diminishes the experince of being here. Its all a little ridiculous, but its still difficult to keep outside of this cycle.
Besides that, everything is holding up well; our diets (although bland) sustain us, our car (though very rattly) still moves, and our spirits (though tested at times) remain high.
I cant express how deeply reality has settled in, how long it will be till we can chill at our homes, hang with friends, or walk somewhere without feeling like an outsider. I do miss home, but I am also really excited about continuing our journey. Its strange to think Ill face an entire year of school after this...

Thanks for all of your comments and facebook posts, Chris and I have a pretty good time working through them (and laghfing retroactively during our countless hours on the road...). Feeling pretty hungry right now, so I think ill go cook up some frijoles...
Hasta luego,
B

Oh, and the punctuation errors, although nonintentional, are inevitable. I cant seem to find an apostrophe or quotation marks anywhere on this keyboard. Also spellcheck is out of commision, and for those of you who know me well, thats kindof a big deal...

Road to Mazatlan: Too Many Curves...

Lets just say Chris nearly barfed... multiple times.

C&B

Welcome to Mexico...

Hey all, you'll be stoked to know that we were just able to get two posts online today! This one chronicles some of our first days in Mexico, which were a medley of fun and stress, and leads into our second (Available above) in which we finally arrive in Mazatlan. A few peeps have been asking for text updates as well, so we'll try, but I warn you; they won't be overly interesting... After a day of killing it driving and crossing army checkpoints, the last thing your interested in is writing a novel flush with descriptive adjectives and solid plotlines.
In further news, we leave today from Ixtapa and continue on... currently we are planning on kicking it to Punto Escondido and then traveling up into the yucatan, visting some ruins (and hopefully doing some hunting :), crossing the border into Guatemala (At a sketchy location that I'm not sure even exists... good thing we have a winch!), and finally hitting some language school at eco-escuela. Should be a good time. We'll keep you updated as it unfolds.

Peace,
Chrissy & B

PS. I uploaded the wrong version of this video... Plot is kinda hard to follow without subtitles and the car sections are messed up (much cooler in the other version). I'll try to change it soon...