Slip sliding through Honduras

I resisted the temptation to go exploring in the old town of Copas Ruinas, just over the border in Honduras, as I was still trying to make good time heading south.  And as I knew I'd cross this border here on the way back north, I sped past. Still more mountainous country, it was fun swooping around the twists and curves, on a lovely cool day, with rain threatening.  The back pain had disappeared, now that I was in the mountains and the temperatures were considerably cooler.

Rounded a corner, to come face to face with a very recent mudslide, which hadn't yet been cleared.  So I ambled forward through the red mud until I suddenly dropped about 6 inches or so!  Yes, the road was no longer there - it had been washed, or slid, away, a fact which was hidden by all the red, clinging clay everywhere! We handled the slipping and sliding along the wheel rut OK for a few metres, then Brutus gently slipped and plopped over sideways, resting the panniers on a mud bank.  I picked myself up, stood upright again, swung my leg over, pulled the bike upright with brute force, hit the starter and we were away.

There were several more slides through Honduras, although nothing as bad as this first one. The red mud was awful, clinging to the bike, my pants and boots. Well, actually, my joggers, because my riding boots had been packed away back in Arizona due to my feet swelling badly, and being very painful, in the heat, to the extent that I couldn't walk some evenings when I got off the bike.  My back pain and heat exhaustion were more than enough to contend with, so I wore joggers rather than the boots - the lesser of all evils, kind of thing.  [Yeah, I know it's not the done thing, and I should have protection for my feet and ankles, but "horses for courses" in this case] I passed through several cuttings where the road had ben carved out of mountains of this red (more a pinky-mauve-purple than red, really) clay, and there were often signs of slippages.  But the mud was very pretty, contrasting as it did with the verdant foliage.

I rode on into the early evening, as I couldn't find a hotel, then struck it lucky to find one right beside a large lake at Santa Cruz.  It was delightful, sitting on the verandah overlooking the lake, having a coffee as the sun was setting, in the cool of the evening with the storm clouds building, out over the lake and the mountains.

Sorry the photos are a bit dark!

I didn't have a good map for Honduras, either [note to self:  buy some bloody maps, for goodness sake!!!] but decided to tackle the city of Tegucigalpa (pronounced: teh-oo-si-alpa, as "g"s are silent) after my success through Guat City.  Again, it was easy, just go with the flow and follow someone.  Right at the edge of town, I was stopped for my second check today by a Policia roadblock, but it was just to check my papers and have a "chat", as usual. They seem to pick up, from a distance, on the different shape of the moto with its full load of luggage, and automatically think "turista" and pull me over.

I was heading further south, to the border with Nicaragua, planning to cross at Los Manos, reputedly another "easy" crossing.  It was bucketing down rain for a couple of hours prior to arriving at the border, which was a little unpleasant, as I found that my "waterproof" rain jacket was NOT!  I did have my good jacket with me, but it wasn't worth the effort of getting it out, as mostly the showers were just that - showers.  And it would have been too hot to wear it all the time, so I wore my summer jacket with the waterproof over the top as required.

Squillions of trucks, stretching back for miles, greeted me at the  border, but I did my usual trick and squeezed past them all, to pull up right outside the Migracion building, so that I could see my bike at all times while I was attending to the paperwork.  I was accosted immediately by helpers and money changers.  Changed some money into Nicaraguan notes, as it is needed to pay for the papers crossing into Nic, and declined the helpers' offers to assist.  This crossing took a little longer, as there were a couple more steps involved, but I was still away in a little over an hour. They "closed" the border - using 5 semi-trailers parked side by side across the roadway - for lunch, just as I was leaving.  Nothing could get through THAT barrier, not even little Brutus!

It was still raining lightly, but was very humid, so I kept on, heading southwest towards Managua, via Leon.