Back where I belong - Bicycle touring in Central America Part 1

May 13, 7:40 PMBoise International Travel ExaminerNancy Sathre-Vogel

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Entering Belize - our first CentanlAmerican country

Editor's Note:  This is the one article in an ongoing series of articles about my family's bike trip from Alaska to Argentina as my boys try to break the Guiness world record as the youngest people to cycle the Pan American Highway.

Central America.

Two words.  Simple words at that.  And yet those two words conjure up a multitude of images for most of us.  Perhaps the images that rise to the surface are those of violence and robbery.  Or maybe what bubbles up are thoughts of sweltering heat and poverty.  Each of us has our own perceptions of Central America, and all too often – for those in the United States anyway – those perceptions are none too positive.

But to me, those words just might be some of the most special words on Earth, and the memories they bring back are some of the best memories I have.  You see, I used to work as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Central America many years ago.  In 1984 I headed to Honduras as a recent college grad to help establish a Special Education program in the country.  A few years later I waved goodbye to my friends, and headed back to the US

For the past 22 years I’ve wanted to return.  I’ve dreamed of going back to Honduras, of visiting my pueblo, of chatting once again with the woman I lived with while there…  I’ve yearned to return – but it somehow never worked out.  Until now.

A couple months ago, while in Veracruz, Mexico, I refolded my Mexico map in order to have southern Mexico showing on my handlebar bag as we pedaled – and saw Honduras on the map.  Honduras on the map!  We were (finally!) within sight!  But first we had to pass through Belize and Guatemala…

“There’s nothing in Belize,” people had told us.  Lots of people, in fact.  Over and over again we had heard stories about how awful Belize was – so we made the decision to simply zip through.  We would pedal fast, make good mileage, and get through the country as quickly as possible.  That was fine with me – it would take me that much closer to Honduras.  But we lasted all of about five hours.

Our very first evening in Belize we pulled into a resort on the New River – we had heard we could camp in their yard.  I wearily leaned my bike against the retaining wall and stumbled up the steps to the restaurant.  I was exhausted, the heat was oppressive, and my body was dripping with sweat. 

“Bravo!  Incredible!!” Applause and smiling faces surrounded me.  “Let me buy you a drink!”

Within minutes, we were seated at the bar talking with some of the friendliest people on earth – Jack and Stacey, organic cattle ranchers with farms in both England and Oklahoma.  An hour later, we were comfortably nestled in a hotel room, complements of Jack and Stacey.  And the next day – rather than making our mad dash through Belize – we found ourselves on a river tour to Lamanai Mayan ruins as guests of our newfound friends.

“Let’s do it!” John exclaimed the following morning.  “Let’s get through this country – we’ve dawdled a whole day on the river, but now let’s make time and get to Guatemala.”

That didn’t last long.

We had met a Canadian family in Mexico – and they were headed to Belize for a few months.  We met up with them, pitched our tent next to their RV, and spent the next few days exploring the many rivers and swimming holes in the area.  So much for our mad dash through Belize…

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To read Part 2 of this article, click here.

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