The Great Coban Adventure!

What to do with a three day weekend in Guatemala? Go on an adventure!

Over drinks and genuinely good Mexican food in Zona Viva in downtown Guatemala City, Michael and I discussed the plethora of possibilities with the Ochoa's and the Sanchez's, two fabulous and beautiful families that Michael has grown close to in Guatemala. The Military Group, an entity of the U.S. Embassy, where Michael works, seems filled to the brim with extreme personalities (almost all good and slightly outrageous), daily "can-you-believe-it!" stories, and has yielded a tight-knit community of Americans that live and work in this vastly different country. Michael has essentially been adopted into these two families and serves as a de facto babysitter every occasion that they are together (fortunately, Michael has an innate talent and gentleness with children - I sadly, do not).

After an ingenious game of tag Michael invented

A few tequila shots and Micheladas (beer, lime juice, peppers, and salt) later, it was decided that we all were going 5 hours north to a town called Coban in the heart of the Guatemala. Wisely (although maybe not so much in hindsight), the Ochoa's and Sanchez's hired a van and driver. The roads in Guatemala are notorious for dangerous curves, a lack of safety barriers, and generally insane, aggressive driving. In an attempt to manage the car sickness and boundless energy of seven year old Sophie, six year old Roman, four year old Alea and two year old Jozef, they reasoned all parents were required, steering-wheel free. Michael and I decided (very wisely in hindsight) to take his 4-Runner, and follow the van.

Despite our best (sort of) efforts to leave at 8 in the morning on Saturday, we didn't end up leaving the city until well past noon. Leaving the city behind, we zipped around bends and turns, the beauty of Guatemala opening up all around us. Traversing ridges, signs of rockslides evident, we climbed into a cloud forest shrouded in fog and mist. Just as suddenly, valleys swooped below, ending in an endless hazy horizon of loping hills.

Passing through small, depressed towns, countless Mayans walking precariously by the side of the road, the disparity of wealth could not have been more keenly felt. And yet, the brightly colored clothing of all the women and children, the random soccer games in the middle of the street, the well maintained fields and industriousness of the people we saw working...there is a community here, and it is a strong one.

Arriving at our beautiful hotel/resort a little bit outside of Coban, we kicked back before heading out to experience the local dining. Coffee is the main export of this fertile area, but the spice cardamom, is ubiquitous. As the only patrons at the high-ceilinged Kardamomuss Restaurant, we enjoyed delicious food, and a pre-birthday celebration for Heralder, who turned 38 on Sunday.

The next morning, only 30 minutes behind schedule, we departed our hotel to make the two hour drive to Semuc Champey.

Oh nature, how you continue to astound and humble me! Semuc Champey is one of the most beautiful and uplifting places I have ever seen. A thundering river, vines swirling on its surface, is led into a cave strewn with borders by way of a rainforest ravine, and is transformed into orange bordered pools of brilliant green-blue. The underground cave/tunnel, as much as you strain to peer into its darkness, standing precariously above it, retains its mystery. The miraculous transformation into wide, slow flowing stepped pools, the water so pure and clear, you can see fish swimming a hundred feet away is amazing. Deceptively deep, the pools are as beautiful to look at, as they are refreshing and rejuvenating to swim in.

The only thing is, it is very difficult to get to Semuc Champey. An hour of winding, perpetually foggy road eventually gives way to 20 km of an extremely treacherous dirt and rock road, oftentimes with a sheen of mist slicking its passage. The final bit involves crossing a wooden bridge, and I nearly had a heart attack as I watched the planks bounce and fly upwards as the van holding the Ochoa's and Sanchez's crossed in front of us. Finally, we arrived at the park, climbed out of our cars and were immediately descended upon by a dozen children selling homemade chocolate wrapped in tin foil. I have never seen such strategy, essentially they each made us us promise to only buy chocolate from them. They repeated their names over and over again, and came up with small antics to make us remember them later on.

Taking the little Ochoa and Sanchez children in hand we began the nature walk to the pools. Within a few hundred meters, the pools began to peak out from behind the foliage. The surprisingly developed park (considering the route it took to get there) was complete with a maintained wooden walk-way to avoid causing damage to the foliage. Our entire party, when finally confronted with the beauty of the pools, was rendered speechless. Like a giant natural water park, tourists and Guatemalans alike slide from smooth rock patterns into the pools, or traversed the clear tidal-pool-esque configurations to gain different perspectives of the surrounding beauty. Slipping and sliding, we tread lightly to the cave outlook.

The grand view of the park, Mirador, was advertised as a steep vertical climb of 400 meters to a platform granting unsurpassed views of the pools. There was no way the kids were going to make the climb, and after an appropriate amount of goading from everyone, Michael and I began a rapid ascent. Our goal was to try to make it down in less than two hours (it was an estimated 1 hour and 15 minute climb), and so, at a trot, and in our first work out in weeks, we began the sweaty, labored climb. Himalaya tenacity took over, and I set a crazy pace. Stopping only to take a few quick pictures, we climbed. Abruptly, the foliage seemed to clear. Were we almost there? Yes, and not to brag, but it took us 16 minutes to make the climb. In jeans no less. And the views were every bit as wonderful as we had hoped.

After a 13 minute descent, properly surprised our party, Michael, overwhelmed by the beauty of the pools, and the exertion of our climb, dove into the water (of course, no one had thought to bring bathing suits since it was so cold in Coban - so he was wearing his pants). Inspiring his mini-me's, the kids all began to strip down and attempted to follow Michael. Michael in turn, followed the example of a tan, spry Mayan boy and dove off of the boulders mid-pool rather then just slide down them as the other tourists were doing.

Can you see the sweat? I look a bit rough...

Michael, King of Semuc Champey

A gentle drizzle started up, and at the behest of our talented driver Estuardo, we all made our way back to the van and 4-Runner. What happened next? Well, you already know we made it back safely...

Within one kilometer of trying to climb out of Semuc Champey, Michael and I watched the van slide and bump at extreme angles as it tried to crest a hill. My heart was trapped in my throat as I envisioned the van rolling (as it so easily could have done) and come tumbling down the hill. Unbelievably, the van made it up that first hill, but it was clear that was as far as it was going. The 4-Runner, and 4-wheel drive, had us up the hill right behind the van, and the brainstorming session began. We had tow rope, should we tow the van out? Should Michael and I take the kids in our car? What about the down hill sections? Eventually, it was decided. The van was left abandoned in a grassy ditch, and all 11 people climbed into Michael's 5 person 4-Runner. Here's how it went down: Michael driving, Heralder in the passanger seat, all 4 children (which they thought was hilarious), Marlene and Sandy in the backseat, and Gerardo, Estuardo and me in the way back.

Add Michael and I into this picture, and that is the number of
people that fit into the 4-Runner

Hands down, this was one of the most uncomfortable, scary, and nauseating car rides of my life. I basically survived by the fact that the rear window rolls down, and by staring outside, watching the steep drop-offs fade into the distance. Bumping and twisting for an hour on the dirt road, we finally emerged onto the dark windy, pot-holed, asphalt road and arrived in Coban an hour and a half later. Hallelujah! We made it, thanks to Michael's mad driving skills and the glorious invention of 4-wheel drive. Dragging ourselves into our orange and yellow hotel restaurant, we immediately ordered a bottle of wine, and started the jokes of Heralder's unforgettable birthday trip to Semuc Champey.

It was decided late that night to send another van from the Gautemala City to pick up the families. So the next morning as we waited for the van to arrive, we all piled back into Michael's car again and explored the town of Coban. Finally around 1400, we began the long trip back to the city, curving back through the small towns, dodging dogs and chickens.

It was a true adventure, complete with pools of brilliant water, hilarious children, improvisation, good food, and and Peyton Manning winning a spot at the Superbowl.