What or who is Howard hiding from?

View from Howard's patio

Who is Howard really?

When we came to Copan, a tiny and dusty little town with rutted dirt roads we stayed at a little mountainside hotel owned by Howard and Angela. She is a lovely and friendly Honduran lady and he is a mysterious and shifty American. When I arrived I sat on his patio with him overlooking the adjacent hills. I asked him how he came to be here and he only said he'd come here twenty years ago and never left. EXACTLY, what is he hiding from? I mean this educated and articulate guy is living in a tiny village built to attract tourists to a place that lost its cultural reason-to-be over 1000 years ago. The ruins aren't enough to keep anyone's interest forever. Howard (if Howard is his real name) is hiding a checkered past. Criminal, witness protection program, mob hit man, drug cartel lawyer, pedophile. The possibilities are endless. I tried to narrow down the possibilities. We spoke of the current Honduran crisis with the ousted president. Howard says the ex-president was a crook, the newspapers aren't so sure of that. Most people want the old president back. Perhaps Howard is a CIA operative. If so, he's got a great cover but a lousy posting. This terribly hot and humid little town has few people and they all know each other's business. It would quickly drive most thinking people out of their mind.

Last night Mac and I were out late and caught Howard lurking in the shadows. We followed him through the twisty, narrow streets; but he gave us the slip.

Copan Ruins to Danli, Honduras 335 miles

Here’s an interesting fact. The National tree of Honduras is the pine. This made sense to me today because we travelled up and down pine covered mountains all day. The entire group left at sun-up this morning because this ride took 11 solid hours. In the 335 miles there must have been 100 villages. Even though there are few speed bumps here in Honduras you must slow down through villages. People, animals and all types of vehicles jump out from all directions. Everyone uses the road as a sidewalk, thus it is teeming with people. Usually each town has several venders hawking their wares. Cold water, mangoes, bananas, jewelry, and other items are sold in little stalls or on the road. We rode through Tegucigalpa, the capital. We came in over a mountain range and plummeted a few thousand feet into the city. It is a sprawling mess of a city.

Paul, my roommate has been gone on his on for two nights. A few years ago he helped build a school in Esperanza, Honduras and he went to meet the people who run the school and take them over $800 he collected from our group. Unfortunately his BMW broke down and he didn’t make it to the school but did make the donation. His fuel filter failed but he spent a day repairing it.

Mac was sick today with Montezuma’s Revenge – gastrointestinal distress and explosive diarrhea. He picked a bad day. We rode with the fast guys to avoid getting lost. We had numerous hair raising incidents. One berserk cow jumped into the road causing Aussie Andy to break hard. I was behind him and had to brake and swerve. We nearly got him. We had to pass hundreds of vehicles to stay with the group. We passed on curves, at the top of hills, with oncoming traffic having to shift over. I’d say we were going at ‘break neck speed’. Mac and I will resume our more relaxed pace tomorrow. Not only is such riding dangerous, it is very stressful. Every second you have to concentrate on 100 things. I’m worn out as I write this. We go to Nicaragua in the morning.