April 15-16

Instead of crossing the Guasaule border from Nicaragua into El Salvador, where we had such a bad experience before, we took the northern route through Estelí and Somoto. The El Espino border into Honduras was worth the trip, as the border was much easier, plus the road there was brand new.

After a couple of nights in El Zonte, near the infamous Libertad surf break, which wasn't breaking without a swell, we decided to head back to Guatemala. On the way, we decided that we were ready to finally head home. We put Honduras and Belize on hold for another time, and began a road trip back to the U.S. We stopped in Antigua to try to find our old shocks that we left with a mechanic. Luckily, we they were still there, and Marty was able to replace our front left shock that was leaking oil.

Just outside of Antigua, on our way to Lake Atitlan, I started to smell something burning. When we noticed the cab filling up with smoke, Marty pulled over. One of the hoses from the engine to the radiator had sprung a leak, and there was oil all over the engine and bonnet. We stopped across the street from a group of children who watched us the whole time. Marty patched the hole and got us to the next town, where we had a mechanic cut the hose and repair it with a steel pipe secured with two clamps. However, the mechanic didn't clamp it too well, and we had to pull over a third time. This time, the hose had a new hole. It was rotting away and had to be replaced. Luckily, we had stopped at a gas station. Although they didn't have any hoses of the size we needed, we had a few spare hoses for other replacements with us. So, Marty borrowed a hacksaw and cut the old hose off the metal attachments. In order to fit the spare hose around the metal attachments we needed hot water so I broke out one of my small gas stoves to boil some water.

Esperanza, the woman who ran the oil store, next to the gas station, was really bright and full of questions about us and our trip. Her father came by to inspect our situation and wanted to know how much I paid for the stove with much interest. After Marty fitted the new hose, which was a bit smaller that the original, it was almost dark. We asked if we could park in their lot for the night, and they said it would be much safer than driving at night. Her father asked again how much I paid for the stove and Marty said to just give it to him. I showed him how to work it and told him it was a "regalo" - a gift. He gave me a big hug, pointed to the stars and gestured with his hands something about how I would go to heaven. He was the second person to offer to buy my stove - a hot little item in Central America. Bring a few if you ever go.

We got on our way early the next morning. A few kilometers down the road, Rover was smoking oil again. The replacement had two more holes. This time, Marty replaced it with the only thing we had left, a hose bigger in size than the original. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever get out of Guatemala, and how all this was happening right after we decided to go home, as if Central America didn't want to let us go. Marty replaced the small ruptured hose with the bigger one, threw on a new oil filter in case a clogged one was causing hose pressure, and within one more kilometer, the red oil indicator light blinked on. This time, we feared the oil pump was shot, as there was no oil in the new filter. We made it a few yards up the road to a local mechanic. His "shop" (above, right) consisted of a couple dozen broken down buses, a dozen cards and a wood bench with a vice and loads of rusty used parts scattered around - basically a junk yard. Marty had more tools than all the mechanics on hand, but after a quick scavenger hunt, our mechanic found something we did not have - a piece of hose the same size as the original. After exchanging a bunch of gestures and little Spanish, Marty and our junkyard mechanic had Rover running again - and the oil light was off.

April 22

People often ask us if we ever got really scared on the trip. Other than our first couple of police inspections in Mexico, we never had a bad situation. People are extremely friendly and helpful throughout Central America. Although we were usually on the defense driving a vehicle that reeks of "dinero," very few tried to proactively rip us off or take advantage of us. For instance, on our way out of Veracruz, Mexico we smelled burning oil again, so we pulled over right away. We quickly learned that the return hose for oil to the engine had burst this time. Unfortunatley, we didn't grab any spare hose when we fixed the main one in Guatemela. So, Marty went to the gas station across the street for help but they said he would have to get a ride somewhere else as it was Sunday and everything nearby was closed. There were a group of guys hanging outside, on the street, a few feet in front of Rover who had greeted us by yelling "I love you baby" when I got out of the truck. With few options, Marty asked them for help. One of them road off on a bike and returned with a mechanic in a car. Within a few minutes and only forty dollars, we had the hose repaired. Marty shared a beer with them and we were on our way (above, middle).

We drove what felt like non-stop, in four hour shifts. One of us would sleep in the back while the other drove until we reached Marty's parents' home in New Jeresey. As soon as we got home, we called Rovers North for parts and Marty got to work repairing: a failing heater core, a new thermostat, our rear axle ball joint, four new heavy duty shocks, spark plug wires, and steering arm bushings. He also rewired our dash board and our rear lights.

As soon as Rover is put back together, we are heading to Virginia to check out the job market. If all goes well, we hope to see you at the Mid Atlantic Rover Ralley this summer.

What will happen to Travels with Rover? In the future, Rover will take us to South America, Eastern continents and around the globe. In the mean time, we will introduce you to other Rovers and their stories, as well as our local adventures in the U.S.