Shaun spent two months working in Honduras at La Prensa and El Heraldo, helping to train and install their new newspaper software system from Digital Technology, International.  Several of the IT guys from the papers volunteered to show him around the country on the weekends. Allan drove him to Mayan ruins at Copan, Leo and Allan took him to the Rio Cangrejal, and Cristhian took him to his home town of Las Vegas, in the mountains near Lake Yojoa and Pico Santa Barbara, the country's second-highest peak.

Saturday morning was overcast with some rain, and Shaun and Cristhian got up a bit too late to tackle Santa Barbara, so they grabbed the machete and started up the next peak to the east, instead.

The lower part of the mountain was covered with tall grasses and a few barbed-wire fences to climb over. The grasses usually rose above our heads, and we traded off swinging the machete down and across to clear the path before us. Occasional game (cow) trails provided easier routes up the steep hillside.

At one point, Shaun took a break from swinging the machete and paused atop a rock surrounded and covered by the grasses.  When he set his right foot down for a break, he discovered that the rock ceased to exist at some point between his feet. Off balance, he fell backward down the mountain. Half way through a backward summersault, upside down and gaining speed, wishing the machete were a mountain axe he could self-arrest with, he pressed his hands against the earth and deposited the machete there for safe keeping instead. He spun once more before cleverly divesting himself of his remaining speed by hitting his head against a rock. Luckily, this rock was also covered by grasses and it hardly even hurt.

As the two gained elevation, the vegetation changed - first to thicker but shorter vegetation with a few conifers, then to tall, thick, near-jungle-like brush. Thick clouds moved in, thick enough to feel individual water drops suspended in the air. Nearby pine trees grew faint and became ghost-like silhouettes.  We inhaled deeply for a drink of the fresh cloud juice and Shaun swung the machete through the air in an attempt to chop out a slice to eat like a watermelon.

By this time, swinging the machete had begun to wear their skin into blisters around the thumb joints. Chopping through the vegetation grew tougher as they had to chop any space to swing, then clamber upward on all fours.  Looking back downhill, their path was a tunnel through the darkness.

Finally, they emerged from the jungle and found themselves near the summit. They scrambled over a few more steep rocks and into a refreshingly-cool wind blowing across the peak.

< Cristhian stands above his home town of Las Vegas. Pico Santa Barbara rises another thousand feet behind his back. P.S.B. was covered with significantly more of the thick trees and brush and a hike there would have greatly benefitted from a sharpening of the machete and a pair of leather gloves.

> Shaun stands on the wind-blown summit with Lake Yojoa behind.

They spent some time relaxing and enjoying the beautiful view from the summit before starting down the easier back side of the mountain, eventually reaching pastures and escaping territorial long-horn bulls, using small cliffs and fences for protection. Following a trail through a stand of trees, they spooked half a dozen giant fruit bats that flapped out over their heads.

Once down, they headed to Pulhapanzak Falls for their next great adventure.