Last spring, I began working on a for on migration in Mexico, Guatemala, and El Salvador. I had a photography budget, and I knew I wanted to hire women. Female writers are sorely underrepresented in my profession—in 2015, in the New Yorker went to men—and the situation is even worse for . If you care about good reporting, as I do, it’s not hard to imagine how serious and far-reaching the effects of this imbalance can be.

“Right now, women make up roughly 15 percent of the news photographers published in major western news outlets,” explains , founder of , a database to promote the work of female photographers. “That’s not just a problem of affirmative action. It’s a problem for responsible and nuanced storytelling.”

Working as a reporter in Central America for the past three years, I’ve gotten used to men asking if I’m married and offering unwanted advice about how to live my life. (“You’d better hurry up,” one cab driver in Mexico City suggested, “before you get ugly!”) The advice is almost always from men I’ve just met, who assume I’m lost and need their help. And while it’s usually framed within well-intentioned warnings about the dangers of traveling alone, the subtext has been obvious: If you’re a woman, you shouldn’t be doing this.

This was evident during my reporting in Tapachula, a town roughly 25 miles from the Mexico-Guatemala border that has experienced high levels of violence and crime. On my first day, I took a collective bus to Ciudad Hidalgo, on the Suchiate River, where migrants and locals cross the border on giant inner tubes, thus avoiding paperwork and fees. En route, a twentysomething guy sitting behind me leaned in and asked where my husband was. Then he asked, “Did you know eight men were beheaded in Ciudad Hidalgo this week?”

It was as if, in his mind, those two questions were somehow connected. When I told him it was none of his business, he let out a howling laugh and announced his findings to the entire bus: “She is definitely not married!”

My plan was to cross the Suchiate River with migrants, and then visit a migrant shelter in Tecún Umán, Guatemala, where I could interview residents for the following five days. I traveled with photographer , and even the male migrants we interviewed at the migrant shelters on both sides of the border asked why we weren’t safely at home with our children. “We don’t have any,” we would respond in unison, which prompted more than a few people to ask if we were lesbians.

The day we conducted interviews and took photos at the Belén shelter in Tapachula, there was only one migrant woman present among dozens of men. Ludin Gómez, 31, a single mother from Santa Rosa de Copán, Honduras, was traveling with her three children: Daniella, 7, Isaac, 9, and María José, 12. “I am so glad you women are here,” she told us both. “Sometimes we think that nobody cares about migrants.”

In March, I spent two weeks living at a in Ciudad Juárez, a town on the U.S.-Mexico border that, like Tapachula, is profoundly affected by violence and human trafficking. Most of the migrants at the Juárez shelter were men traveling alone, but there were several young women with children. At the time, I worked with , a local photographer who said she was often questioned about her choice to travel alone for assignments.

“Why did you come here? Why are you alone?” an indigenous Zapotec woman asked her in Oaxaca City. “Aren’t you afraid to travel alone without a husband and with your camera?”

Some of the mothers at the shelter had been through traumatic experiences along the migrant trail. Itzel, who is a mother of two girls, soon approached them, began exchanging stories, and eventually started taking pictures. Her ease of interaction surprised even me, because I wasn’t sure whether they would allow their children to be photographed. It occurred to me that Itzel’s exceedingly powerful photographs might not have been possible if she had been a man.

“If photojournalists are the lens through which the general public sees the rest of the world,” Zalcman says, “we need to make sure storytellers are just as diverse as the people and issues they cover.”

Photographer , my partner on the migration project in El Salvador, had a similar experience in Tunisia. While on assignment shooting video, a man approached her and said he was impressed by her professionalism. He was surprised, he said, “because there are no female Tunisian photographers.”

Danielle pointed out to him that it was most likely because women are not encouraged to pursue photography as a career, adding that it was like this in the United States, where she was from. He didn’t seem won over, but I hope other people might be. I hired these women because I admired their body of work, their hustle, their drive, and their faith in the power of photography to move people and create positive social change. I want to see the world represented equally—through our voice, as well as our eyes—and I continue to have faith in the power of actions and words to change people’s perceptions about what women can do.

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The seven small countries wedged between Mexico and Colombia boast the world’s greatest density of adventure per square mile. Our scouts explored Central America’s reefs, jungles, and beaches, and came back with the knowledge you need for your own expedition.

El Salvador

Pupusas��and Point��Breaks

When I’m going on a surf trip to another country, I don’t want to feel like I’m in Newport Beach, which is why last June I packed my boards and flew to tiny El Salvador. The country has issues with gang violence, but tourists are almost never affected, and it’s the perfect place for a Central American experience without all the gringos.

So bone up on your Spanish and start with the small coastal town of El Tunco, about 40 minutes south of the airport in San Salvador. On weekends it’s packed with day-trippers from the capital, but it empties out during the week. The rocky beaches west of town offer a beginner-friendly surf spot with long, crumbling rights and steeper, shorter lefts. Surfers have known about the point breaks spaced every couple of miles along the country’s south-facing coast for years, but somehow it’s still easy to find nooks and crannies to yourself.

For bigger waves, head seven miles west to El Zonte, a two-restaurant town with a fun right point break. Stay at hotel (from $22), where Alex Noboa and his wife take turns running the joint and sneaking out to surf. Whoever happens to be out of the water can give you the beta on surf lessons, inland waterfall hikes, and coffee tours.

Farther down the coast toward Honduras—what El Salvadorans call the east coast—an even more rural experience can be found. The surf spots are less consistent, but when the swell hits it’s unbelievably good. Countless surf flicks, like Reef’s Cancer to Capricorn, were filmed at the Las Flores break and the half-dozen other world-class waves in the area.

The crown jewel of the region is Punta Mango, a 200-yard cobblestone point break 20 minutes west of the town of El Cuco. Stay at (from $125), which overlooks the barreling, Americano-free waves.

Crucial Beta:��You don’t need to rent a car in El Salvador. For long trips, arrange a driver through your hotel; the 4.5-hour ride from El Cuco to Tunco ran us $125. For shorter excursions, take the bus. Many are kitted out with skull stick shifts and throbbing Latin beats, and 25 cents will get you and your board anywhere you want to go.

Local Flavor:��Wherever you go in El Salvador, you’ll see women pounding out dough to load up pupusas with cheese, beans, chicken, chorizo, or carne asada. In El Cuco, you can’t get one before 5 p.m.; in the rest of the country, they seem to be available 24/7. No matter where you are, they’ll run you 50 cents to two bucks.

—�Ѳ��ٳ��������Բ�����

Costa Rica

Howler��Monkeys, Waterfalls, and Empty Beaches

If you had the time, you could easily pass months in Costa Rica, hopping from the Monte Verde cloud forests to the world’s most famous beach breaks. But when planning a weeklong trip with a group of friends, we limited ourselves to a single geographic area, since we planned on traveling by buses and wanted to really get to know the place. We settled on the Pacific coast of the Nicoya Peninsula, specifically the pint-size town of Santa Teresa. Nearby Nosara is a famous surfing destination, which means plenty of people know the area is worth a visit. But the region has managed to maintain a laid-back feel—a rare thing in this sometimes touristy country.

After taking the ferry from mainland Puntarenas, the psychological equivalent of leaving Las Vegas for Joshua Tree, we headed straight for the (rentals from $12) and spent the next two days surfing poorly at Playa El Carmen and eating chicken tacos, yucca fries, and ceviche at a little shack called Taco Corner. Our third morning, we traveled by bus nine miles to the even smaller fishing village of Playa Montezuma in search of a series of cascading river pools, about a 20-minute hike from the village center. We whiled away an entire afternoon swimming under a waterfall, listening to the screams of monkeys in the trees, and watching kids splash around on a precarious-looking rope swing.

On the way out, we picked up a few tortillas and a bag of avocados at the market before heading back to the quiet of Santa Teresa. The only souvenir I brought home was a pound of Costa Rican coffee. I can still smell it in my bag.

Crucial Beta:��The town of��Nosara��is one of the best places to practice yoga in the Western Hemisphere. Our favorite retreat: . Started by a founder of the renowned Omega Institute in upstate New York, it’s the perfect place to��earn a teaching credential. The��monthlong��Jivamukti��training gets you starting certification in a��vinyasa-based��yoga ($6,350, all-inclusive). Not ready to go pro? Book a one-week retreat (teachers and practices change frequently), then lounge in the resort’s infinity pool, try a Reiki treatment at the on-site spa, and roll out your mat twice a day with panoramic views of the Pacific (from $500).

Local Flavor:��Don’t be tempted by a “tropical” cocktail in a hollowed-out pineapple just because you’re in Costa Rica. Central America has mastered the art of the light lager. Each country has a brewery churning out refreshing low-alcohol suds (our favorite: El Salvador’s Pilsener), and no matter which country you’re in, that’s what you should be drinking.

—Meaghen Brown��

Belize

Whale��Sharks,��Hot Sauce, and Family Harmony

Planning a vacation that keeps an entire family happy is next to impossible. One person wants great food, another wants to sit on the beach, persons three through nine are indifferent, and the tenth hates humidity. Which roughly narrows the possibilities down to Portland, Maine, in August—or Belize just about anytime. That’s why last April my in-laws and I headed to Placencia, a small fishing village on the southern end of the country.

Belize is a former British colony, so getting around was as easy as renting a car and being able to read at a fourth-grade level. From there my wife and I chased baby tarpon in inland lagoons (); her sister commuted between the saltwater pool at our rental house and the postcard beach in front of it (); and the in-laws made frequent trips to the shockingly good for shrimp-stuffed squid with mango habanero sauce or braised Belizean lamb.

But the real highlight was the family bonding experience—a chance to snorkel with whale sharks as they made a brief mid-migration appearance. We took a boat beyond the Great Meso-American Reef, and there they were, great school-bus-size fish splashing through 12-foot swells. Everyone dove in except the boat’s captain and the poor guy—me—clinging to an aluminum pole in the throes of seasickness. But, this being Belize, even the whale was accommodating—it surfaced before me as I emptied the last contents of my stomach into the ocean. “Not many people get to see one that close,” the captain said. “That’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.” In other words: a perfect family vacation.

����ܳ�������������ٲ�:��The Maya ruins in Belize are smaller than Mexico’s, not as well maintained, and not nearly as popular. Which makes them a superb place to visit if you don’t want to be herded like cattle through roped-off pathways. Significant portions of Lamanai (two hours northwest of Belize City) and Caracol (two hours south of San Ignacio) remain unexcavated and undeveloped, and they’re ideal spots to explore freely. (Seriously, though, please stay off the ruins.)

Local Flavor:��Ask for hot sauce at virtually any Belizean restaurant and they will bring you one brand: . Legend has it that Marie had a bumper habanero crop one year and, not knowing what else to do with it, ground it up, added some spices, and bottled it. The results—now offered in 11 flavors ranging from mild to “beware”—make Mexican hot sauces taste like tomato juice. It’s hard to find outside the country, so load up at the airport.

—Jonah Ogles��

The post Central America’s Most ���ϳԹ���-Packed Locations appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

The first-ever hammocks were��used by to escape snakes, biting ants, and other creatures they’d prefer not to wake up next to. For most of us today, however, hammocks are the embodiment of hold-my-calls rest and relaxation. Here’s where to make that happen��no matter your budget.

Roughing It

Parque Tayrona, Colombia

From $6

For the price of a few ,��you can sleep to the sounds of crashing waves on an open-air hammock overlooking the beautiful��white-sand��beaches of��. Located��on Colombia’s Caribbean, the park is��known for its snorkeling, but��also��check out the 1.5-mile��uphill hike into the jungle to the ,��a perfect precursor to the three-day ��that begins in Santa Marta, about 30��minutes away. Shell out $95 for a private room that also comes with a hammock.��

Paratay, Brazil

​From $30

Paratay is a tropical beach town about four hours from both��Rio�����Ի���Sao Paulo. Base at this bare-bones mansion��cum��guesthouse, about a 20-minute water shuttle from the town center, and you’ll��get a clean, basic room and quiet beachfront bliss with hammocks.��In Paratay, you can trail bike, kayak, dive, snorkel, or hike through the rainforest on the three-hour Gold Trail through��.��

Antigua, Guatemala

From $40

This hillside escape of treehouses overlooking Guatemala’s vast volcano range��is a 15-minute taxi ride from��Antigua’s center. Get the “deluxe room” and��you’ll have two private hammocks with views. Feeling social? Crawl out of your arboreal home to snag one of six hammocks scattered about the grounds. Or��grab a trail map from the front desk and enjoy wandering the surrounding countryside.

Sharing Community

Topanga Canyon, California
��
From $95

Topanga Canyon��is one of L.A.’s more bohemian reaches, as well as a paradise for . This ��is a home’s guest wing (with a private entrance) surrounded by a��native-plant garden where you’ll find��a cushion- and blanket-strewn hammock over a Mexican-tile patio��with views of the Santa Monica Mountains.��

El Zonte, El Salvador
��
From��$315

Incredible breaks and uncrowded beaches make El Salvador one of the most up-and-coming surf destinations. After riding your last wave, unwind with a swing on one of��the three hammocks at this 12-person, five-bedroom cliff��house. It’s located along the western surfing corridor and comes with a pool.

Big Island, Hawaii

From��$350

If you’ve never road-tripped around Hawaii’s Big Island, put it on your to-do list. From the turtle��diving in Kona and hiking in ��to the hidden falls near Hilo and sightseeing in��, it’s one of the most incredible drives in the United States. Afterward, park yourself in this��hammock with unobstructed views of . The house��comes with its own private beach, Jacuzzi, and swimming pool, and sleeps up to eight.

Splurge

Guadeloupe

From $130

One of the lesser-traveled islands in the Caribbean, Guadeloupe is known for its spectacular beaches, great diving in��the��, and top-notch hiking up the 4,049-foot, still-active��La Soufrière volcano. Base out of��,��set on a rainforested hill overlooking the sea.��All the brightly colored rooms are open��air and equipped with hammocks for spontaneous napping.��

Mountain Pine Ridge Reserve, Belize

From $279

In the open-air��Francis Ford Coppola Villa at the��, one of the walls is actually a hammock��affording private rainforest views and sounds from the river below.��Coppola’s intimate hideaway in the , the first national park in Belize,��is a great base for visiting Mayan sites like (in nearby Guatemala) and exploring the mysterious��.��

Sumba, Indonesia

From $900

This new, much-buzzed-about retreat on the island of Sumba offers surfing, sportfishing, diving, and sunbathing on a private 1.5-mile white-sand beach—all the pleasures that drew travelers to nearby��Bali (a 90-minute flight away) before it became overrun. The best spot for après-adventure lounging: one of ’s��colorful hammocks, which staff set up with pillows and towels, and then deliver freshly picked coconuts with edible��papaya straws.��

��

Three Free Hammock Parks for City Slickers

Governor’s Island, New York

Governor’s Island is��New York City’s favorite��quirky summer playground. It’s��an uninhabited island a from Manhattan with a garden of��red rope hammocks—a��perfect break between biking around the island and kicking back at the (man-made) beach club.��

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania��

,��a lawn of 38��hammocks��on the , is��relaxing way to end your day����down lively South Street from the University of Pennyslvania campus to Penn’s Landing.

Vienna, Austria��

The Viennese sure love their hammocks—the city has a four-story installation in the ��and a ��in the . But for pure open-air swinging bliss,��the place to go is , where a slew of hammocks have been installed every May to October��since 2011.

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Though tourism is El Salvador’s fastest-growing industry, its long history of gang violence and civil unrest has put it on the . Its capital, San Salvador, has one of the highest murder rates in Latin America, due primarily to bloody wars carried out by rival gangs. But, as with any country with a bad reputation, crime tells only one side of the story. Travel beyond its seething center, and you’ll find many regions in El Salvador to be perfectly safe (or at least safer) for a non-touristy, under-the-radar adventure.

Located south of Guatemala and Honduras on the Pacific Coast, El Salvador boasts some of the finest surfing in Central America, with waves that break 200 yards or more without closing out. On the west coast is the small city of La Libertad, epicenter of Salvadoran surfing and home to Punta Roca and other world-class breaks. On the east coast, boarders flock to Las Flores, a volcanic rock point known for its long rides.

Though highly urbanized, El Salvador still offers some amazing hikes if you know where to look. El Imposible National Park, located in the Apaneca Ilamatepec mountain range, has high-altitude forests, eight rivers, and a variety of wildlife, including wild boars and small, tiger-like wildcats called oncillas.

Another must-do for hikers is the mountain town of Juayúa, a quaint jumping-off point for strolls along wildflower-lined trails and visits to nearby coffee plantations. Arguably the biggest draw for hikers, though, are the many active volcanoes that dot the country. Cerro Verde, Santa Ana, and Izalco—all located in Parque Nacional Los Volcanes—are the most popular.

If you do choose to visit El Salvador (and you should), be safe and smart. Check the State Department’s page for updates on problem regions. As of this writing, La Libertad was among those listed, but that could change tomorrow (keep in mind that issues are likely isolated to pockets of violence between gangs—which is no different from what goes on in L.A., Chicago, and other U.S. cities). Be sure to read the news. El Salvador’s newly elected president, Mauricio Funes, is promising to strengthen a gang truce that has dramatically reduced El Salvador’s homicide rate. If you travel in groups, never drive at night, and avoid carrying wads of cash, you’ll have a great time—just like the thousands of other visitors to El Salvador each year.

The post What Does El Salvador Have to Offer Besides a Bad Reputation? appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

Journey to the Center of the Earth

Dreading winter’s chill? It’s always summer in Central America, where you can still surf untouched breaks, summit active volcanoes, and scuba-dive pristine reefs from Guatemala all the way south to Panama. Click on the links below to explore some of the regions best trips. Book now and thank us later.

Nicaragua
Panama
Costa Rica
Honduras
Guatemala
Belize
El Salvador

Nicaragua

The contra-Sandinista war ended more than 20 years ago. It's time to go see the country's beautiful future for yourself.

The beach at Hotel Punta Teonoste

The beach at Hotel Punta Teonoste

The Cathedral of Leon

The Cathedral of Leon

The author on Cerro Negro

The author on Cerro Negro

THE WIND IS HOWLING, the bats are flying, and I’m on the wrong side of the zona de peligro—no pase sign, peering into what 16th-century Spanish priests considered to be the burning maw of hell. It’s after-hours at Masaya Volcano National Park, Nicaragua’s first, where a 36-square-mile caldera gracefully rises 2,095 feet above the dry tropical forest halfway between the capital, ­Managua, and the colonial city of Granada. The crater I’m peering into, ­San­ti­ago, is one of the most ­active in Central America, spewing as much as 1,200 tons of sulfur dioxide per day. The pulsing thump of glowing ­magma 1,246 feet ­below sounds like crashing waves. It’s so mesmerizing that I take a step closer.

If this park were in the U.S., there would be a six-foot chain-link fence topped by razor wire circling the crater rim. But Nica­raguans have a large appetite for risk and a practically nonexistent national-park budget. This no-barriers connection to what lies beneath, as well as nighttime tours of massive bat caves, are what make the park so sensational. My guide, Juan Carlos Mendoza, was here at Masaya in 2001 with 150 American tourists when it erupted.

“I heard a boom and thought it was dynamite,” Mendoza says. That’s when a volcanic rock bombed his bus, making evacuation difficult. Since everyone came out alive, Mendoza, a 50-year-old former Sandinista, remained calm. He’d seen worse.

“Su turno es su turno,” he tells photographer João Canziani and me as, on cue, a deep boom emanates from the crater and I leap toward the “safe” side of the fissure on the rim. In other words, when it’s your time to die, it’s your time to die. Not only do I respect Mendoza’s savant-like knowledge of Nicaragua—from bird species to batty politicians—but after a week traveling together, I’m also starting to get his Latin pícaro sense of humor. It’s dark, spicy, and not at all PC.

It also matches the mood of Masaya, which I’ve deemed the Dark Park because of the near perfect metaphor it creates for Nicaragua’s surreal and violent history. Hundreds of years ago, Masaya was used as a sacrificial altar by the Chorotega ­Indians, who threw maidens and small children into the crater to ­appease the goddess of fire. In the 1970s, dictator Anastasio Somoza Debayle’s hit men dumped their tortured prisoners’ bodies here to disappear the evidence. “Beauty, in Nicaragua, often contained the beast,” wrote Salman Rushdie in his 1987 book The Jaguar Smile.

Most Americans know more about its beast than its beauty. Our collective knowledge of Central America’s largest country—slightly bigger than the state of New York, with a population of nearly six million people, and the second-poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere—centers on two events. The first was the five-year civil war that killed an estimated 50,000 Nicaraguans and ended with the socialist Sandinistas’ overthrow of Somoza in 1979.

The second was the contra-Sandinista war, a poorly masked U.S.-Soviet proxy conflict to control this resource-rich banana republic. The war lasted through most of the 1980s and killed 30,000 people, but for Americans the screaming headline was the Iran-contra affair, the 1986 scandal in which the Reagan administration illegally sold arms to Iran in order to fund the contras, the Nicaraguan soldiers trained by the U.S. to overthrow the Sandinistas.

Add a string of corrupt politicians and the 2006 resurgence of President Daniel Ortega, a populist Sandinista whose administration is heavily backed by oil subsidies from Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez, and it’s clear that while Nicaragua is no longer a dictatorship, it isn’t exactly a democracy, either.

But even questionably ethical leadership can’t keep Nicaragua from finally, fully taking advantage of its assets: it may come as a surprise to most Americans that the country is on par with Panama as the second safest in Central America, behind Costa Rica, according to United ­Nations statistics. It’s also one of the most biologically diverse. More than 18 percent of Nicaragua is protected in 77 parks and reserves, which include the more than five-­million-acre Bosawás Biosphere Reserve, the second-largest intact rain­forest in the Western Hemi­sphere. It has 25 volcanoes ­(seven of which are active); more than 750 bird species; empty, world-class surf beaches on the Pacific; unexplored jungles on the Caribbean; and a population that is pulling itself up by its bootstraps through tourism. With a growing number of colo­nial hotels and designer eco-lodges, the allure of Nicaragua is no longer a secret. More than a million foreigners—210,479 from the United States—visited in 2010. Like Costa Rica 20 years ago, Nicaragua is on the cusp of going mainstream.

It’s impossible to see the entire country in ten days, so we’ve started in Managua and are making a figure-eight loop northwest to the city of León and the beaches of the Pacific; then to Granada; then ­turning south to the expat surfing hot spot San Juan del Sur. From there we’ll visit the newly anointed World Biosphere ­Reserve of Ometepe Island in Lake Nicaragua—the ­largest freshwater body in Central America—and finish back in Managua.

Tonight we’ve diverted from the gringo trail altogether. The park is deserted, and we have the glow of the Masaya Volcano and the distant view of moonlit Lake Nicaragua to ourselves. From this vantage point, it feels like Nicaragua’s moment is now.

“I CONSIDER MYSELF to be very nationalistic. I love my country,” Mendoza tells me as we speed toward Managua in a white SUV. We’ve been poking around the ruins of León Viejo, the second-oldest Nicaraguan city, founded in 1524 and destroyed by a severe earthquake in 1610. This former gold-trading center is Nicaragua’s first World Heritage site.

“Our history is very heroic,” Mendoza continues. “This country has so much potential, but I don’t think I’m going to live long enough to see its future.”

Mendoza is the future of Nicaragua. Five foot eleven and barrel-chested, he speaks impec­cable English, wears a military buzz cut, has a massive jaguar tooth dangling around his neck, and never takes off his name tag. He’s the country’s conduit to the world—from everyday people on up. When Pope John Paul II was scheduled to visit in 1996, Mendoza was the man assigned to show him around. Unfortunately, the plans were changed at the last minute.

“I could have ridden in the Popemobile!” he says dejectedly.

Mendoza was also, as they say, “en la lucha”—in the fight. After graduating from John F. Kennedy High School in Fremont, California (his family sent him to the U.S. after an earthquake demolished Managua), in 1980, he was selected by the ministry of tourism to undergo a yearlong intensive training program, studying the history, geography, wildlife, flora, fauna, and volcanology of Nicaragua. In November 1983, he was hired as one of the country’s first official tour guides. Five months later, he was drafted into the Sandi­nista army. Mendoza went off to the jungle without complaint.

“I thought it was correct to defend my country,” he says.

After two years, Mendoza was allowed to return to his tourism job; he was assigned VIPs like Kuwaiti princes and a Central American president. He’s been at it ever since, guiding for Careli Tours, a company owned by the Melchiors, the ­family that pioneered Costa Rican environmental tourism.

It’s impossible to fully under­stand a country as conflicted and convoluted as Nicaragua. While it helps to study the past, it doesn’t do any good to dwell on it. Within an hour’s radius of León, there are plenty of ways to ditch the beast and connect with the beauty. We hiked 2,395-foot Cerro Negro Volcano, a jet-black dome with a crater so active that it melted Canziani’s hiking boots. On Juan ­Venado Island, a mangrove-lined estuary that parallels the Pacific, we saw caimans and a pale-billed woodpecker so elusive that Mendoza had to look it up in his Birds of Costa Rica book—Birds of Nicaragua doesn’t yet exist. A few miles up the coast in the village of Las Peñitas, we ate ruco, a whitefish fried whole and ­sautéed in tomatoes and red sauce, under palapas over­looking a wild beach that stretched for miles.

A day later, we’re 80 miles southeast on a 23,100-square-foot island in the northwest corner of Lake Nicaragua. It’s one of the only freshwater lakes in the world populated by sharks. (The dictator Somoza delighted in feeding them cows.) We’re sharing Jicaro ­Island Ecolodge with a Colombian photo­grapher, his assistant, and a Brazilian model, who are here to shoot a cover for a tony U.S. travel magazine. This stunning and simple nine-casita lodge, which opened in 2010, was the vision of British businesswoman Karen Emanuel, who partnered with British architect ­Matthew Falkiner to create an oasis made from local volcanic rock and recycled wood. This is one of those getaways where, after you’ve completed your yoga, meditated, and taken a dip in the lake, the chefs will prepare you a honey-infused tropical-fruit smoothie for breakfast before you sprawl out by the pool.

But sometimes the beast rears its head even in paradise. An employee at Jicaro, who wished to remain nameless, began fighting for the Sandinistas at 17.

“I try to forget it. It wasn’t a good time,” he told us at break­fast. “If I wanted to smoke a cigarette, I had to hide it in a ­banana leaf so the enemy couldn’t see the light and kill me.”

The only benefit of the war, he adds with a smile, was that when it finally ended there were seven women for every man. “I’m so happy because my wife is young and I enjoy life,” he says. “The war was over 20 years ago. Now all we have is a beautiful future.”

FOR THE GOOD LIFE, wealthy Managuans and expat surfers congregate on the Pacific coast at San Juan del Sur. Twenty-five miles northwest of the Costa Rican border, the beach town of 18,500 people sits on a half-moon bay with a statue of Jesus looking down from one hillside and the guests at the luxury Pelican Eyes resort looking down from the other. We’re in town only long enough to pick up Rex Calderon, the 19-year-old Central American surfing champion, who grew up a block from the beach. The unassuming five-foot-six, mustached and muscled pro is going to show us how to catch a wave Nicaragua style.

From San Juan del Sur, Mendoza drives 30 minutes north on a dirt track through the dry scrub and stops at a wooden gate manned by two armed security guards. One of them pokes his head into our SUV and charges $3 per person to enter the private property that grants ­access to Playa Hermosa, a beach so untouched that the last two seasons of Survivor were filmed here. A few miles beyond the gate, the road dead-ends at a parking lot where a truckload of local surfers are packing it in for the day. The offshore breezes here are generally perfect in March and April, but it’s February and the heavy winds blowing off Lake Nicaragua, to the east, are chopping up the swell.

Beyond the palm trees and palapas, the beach opens up into a mile-long crescent. To the southwest, the mountains of Costa Rica rise in the hazy distance. Out on the water, Calderon, who has been sponsored by Quicksilver since he was 13 and is Nicaragua’s answer to Mick Fanning, is ­cutting through the waves with the grace of a cat, launching impressive air and popping effortless 360s. To his right is Johnny Goldenberg, a 43-year-old Canadian expat and local real estate entrepreneur who moved to San Juan del Sur five years ago. With a gap-toothed smile and a body full of tattooed Buddhist wisdom, Goldenberg is Calderon’s benefactor, ­providing him with Eberly boards.

“Rex is a good kid—he doesn’t drink, smoke, or do drugs,” Goldenberg tells me as he zips up his wetsuit. “And he’s a coldhearted killer in a contest. The only problem is trying to get him to leave Nicaragua to compete. He loves it here.”

“I’ve had to travel far and wide to find a surf spot with only three guys in the water,” he continues. “The only way I’m leaving is if I can’t afford to live here anymore. Nicaragua is a cross between Cuba and Cabo. It’s got that natural beauty, but the look and feel of socialism. The nervousness when nobody would invest is gone.”

A friend of Calderon’s has just finished telling me how safe it is here when a security guard wearing a BEER IS AN APPETIZER T-shirt drives up in a rusty Land Cruiser and urges me to hide my camera. The only other person within a mile is a woman in a bikini sunbathing. I wonder out loud who he thinks might steal it. The security guard points to the dense jungle scrub behind the beach and is about to expound when a surfer appears out of the water. He intro­duces himself as Juan Manuel Caldera, a local developer.

“It’s very simple. We have kids who watch surfers with fancy sunglasses and shorts, and they start snatching things,” Caldera explains. “We’ve solved that by putting security here.”

Caldera, it turns out, is a Nicaraguan journalist who covered the contra-Sandinista war for NBC and now owns the off-the-grid solar-powered development Las Fincas, a few miles away. He, like Mendoza, had the resources to leave Nicaragua during the worst years. But for both men, the pull toward home was too strong to resist.

“Nicaragua is the safest, most wonderful country in Central America,” Caldera tells me as we slowly walk back down the empty beach. “But it’s all about perception. We have got to change the perception.”��

Fishing in Panama

Redefine roughing it in Islas Secas

Life in Panama

Life in Panama

Fishing near Isla Parida

Fishing near Isla Parida

A palapa at the Islas Secas Resort

A palapa at the Islas Secas Resort

The path to dinner

The path to dinner

They left us there, on that deserted island. My husband and I watched as the 40-foot Munson landing craft pulled away, beaching us on a speck of jungle surrounded by the Gulf of Chiriquí. We had only our bathing suits, two beach umbrellas, a double kayak, snorkels, masks, fins, a cooler of Balboa beer, two fresh pasta salads, four fluffy towels, sunscreen, bug stuff, and a shortwave radio. These meager provisions would have to last us three hours.

It was our two-year anniversary. We waved and set off in our kayak to explore Isla Pargo, one of 16 islands in the remote private archipelago of Islas Secas.

I’d heard about Islas Secas Resort from my childhood friend Carter Andrews. Carter and I grew up normally enough in Nashville, Tennessee, but then he went on to become one of the world’s best fishing guides, with sea-monster cameos on ESPN. Last year he signed on as the fishing director for Islas Secas and several other properties owned by a conservation-minded billionaire. “You’ve
got to get down here,” he told me. “This place is ridiculous.”

He wasn’t kidding. The approach alone is like something out of Jurassic Park. From the small mainland fishing-lodge settlement of Boca Chica, we hopped in a 34-foot SeaVee boat and roared an hour toward the Pacific horizon. By the time we sighted Islas Secas, 25 miles out, the mainland had disappeared. We slowed past green cliffs lined with frigate birds and arrived at a long dock where ­Enrique the bartender waited with two papaya smoothies.

Islas Secas is my kind of roughing it. Guests stay in seven solar-powered yurts, each with its own bathroom and a plantation bed wrapped in mosquito netting. Every morning at 6:30, Enrique delivered a fresh carafe of coffee. Dinner was a stroll to another yurt on a crescent-shaped beach, where chef Alexander Rojas cooked up fish curry and fresh-picked-mango cheesecake on a bay that, each August, fills with breaching humpback whales.

That’s the real draw of Islas Secas: the sea life—parrotfish, puffer fish, king angelfish, shovel­nose guitarfish; whitetip reef sharks, green and ridley turtles, spotted and spinner dolphins. The Gulf of Chiriquí serves as a nursery for the Tropical Eastern Pacific Marine Corridor, a nutrient-rich highway of currents stretching from Costa Rica all the way to the Galápagos. To put that a little less scientifically: the fishing and diving are insane. Much of this bounty is found in Coiba National Park, a 430,825-acre sanctuary surrounding the 124,320-acre volcanic island of Coiba. Coiba was belched up from the Galápagos hot spot 70 million years ago. More recently, until 2004, it was Panama’s most notorious penal colony. Now a Unesco World Heritage site, the park includes the most biodiverse waters in the region. Islas Secas is the closest jumping-off point.

We circled Coiba one day with Carter and his family, his three-year-old daughter, Payton, snorkeling alongside her mother in 25 feet of clear water. But most days we fished, banging 30 miles out to the seamount of Montuosa to cast popping lures for 50-pound yellow­fin tuna. Carter has a bear’s physique and a bruin’s mane of hair; his first mate, local Juan Spragge, is a 21-year-old fishing prodigy. The other captains call them Yogi and Boo-Boo, which might bother them more if they weren’t tagging and releasing more 700-pound marlin than anyone else on Panama’s Hannibal Bank. At one point, we came upon four boobies sunning themselves on a floating log, watching for fish. Carter stopped the boat. “Mahi—under there,” he said. One cast and a dorado was on the line, flashing green. Carter handed me the rod.

“You know what you caught there?” he said, radioing back to Chef Alex that dinner was in the boat. “Passion-fruit ceviche.”

Surfing in Costa Rica

Get schooled on the Nicoya Peninsula

WITH MORE THAN 700 species of birds and an expanding national-park system, Honduras is no slouch when it comes to land-based offerings. But the real draw is underwater. If you’ve heard of Roatán, it’s for good reason: deep cuts in the reef around the island drop thousands of feet, offering vertiginous wall diving, wreck exploration, blooming coral, and high visibility. Head to the island’s laid-back West End for white-sand beaches, open-air bars, and the Cocolobo hotel, which has a sweet infinity pool and ten balcony rooms. Nearby you’ll find accredited dive outfitters of long standing like Coconut Tree and West End Divers. If you’ve got the cojones, explore the bizarre deep-sea universe of jelly-nosed eels and ghost sharks with Karl Stanley, a 37-year-old American inventor who takes aspiring Nemos thousands of feet down in his homemade submarine, Idabel.

Guatemala

Learn Spanish—and set up base camp—in Antigua

In the Spanish colonial city of Antigua, you’ll find Centro Linguístico Maya, one of the country’s best Spanish language schools. In the shadow of three towering volcanoes, the Centro offers one-on-one instruction up to seven hours a day with a private tutor; then practice what you’ve learned at outings to local markets and ruins. For total immersion, stay with one of the school’s hand-vetted local families or check in to the lush digs at El Convento, across from the partially intact ruins of the 18th-century Capuchin convent. Antigua is a perfect jumping-off point to stunning, more than thousand-foot-deep Lake Atitlán—30 miles away in the western highlands—with sheer-cliff trails and vibrant Maya villages. But don’t go it alone: petty theft and violent crime are on the rise throughout the country. Always travel in a group with an experienced guide.

Belize

Track jaguars and whales from a Caribbean eco-lodge

SANDWICHED between Mexico and Guatemala, English-speaking Belize boasts more than two million acres of forest, 180 miles of pristine ­Caribbean coastline, and dozens of innovative eco-lodges. Two of the best? The Hamanasi Resort has treehouse bungalows on a 12-mile stretch of beach minutes from 100-foot waterfalls. The soundtrack is chacha­laca birds calling raucously, and daily activities include tracking jaguar prints in the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary, ringed by the Maya Mountains. For diving, head to Francis Ford Coppola’s posh Turtle Inn, where the Meso­american ­Barrier Reef—the largest in the Western Hemisphere—is just offshore. From April to June, you’ll dive with migrating whale sharks, which come to feed on coral spawn during the full moon.

Surfing El Salvador

Explore the Libertad coast's Pacific breaks

Uncrowded breaks

Uncrowded breaks

THE CIVIL WAR is long past, but ongoing gang violence—though it rarely affects travel­ers—means robberies can happen. Which is why you’ll see armed guards at the supermarket and why we recommend going with a guide. But don’t wimp out, because this tiny country is packed with empty surf, 7,000-foot active volcanoes, and killer pupusas—fresh corn tortillas filled with refried beans and cheese. Plan a multisport trip with the locals at Cadejo ���ϳԹ���s. Start 30 minutes south of San Salvador on the La Libertad coast, where uncrowded ­Pacific breaks range from mellow El Sunzal to perilous Punta Roca, a legendarily long and bone-crushing right. Luxury can be had for less at Casa de Mar, a series of hillside cottages overlooking El Sunzal. After a few days of ­guided wave hunting, head inland to El Imposible National Park for two days of hiking and canyon­eering through epic gorges, with rare emerald ­toucans and aardvarks for company.

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Isolate in Panama
Private islands are neither affordable nor easy to come by. An exception to this rule: Isla Boca Brava, an eight-square-mile spit of land off Panama’s Pacific coast. Situated on the boundary of the lush, tropical Golfo de Chiriqui National Marine Park, the secluded island is home to the new, solar-powered Cala Mia eco-resort (doubles from $220; ). Once you arrive (via puddle-jumper flight from Panama City and a boat ride from the town of David), base yourself in one of 11 oceanfront bungalows. Next up: days spent snorkeling and kayaking the surrounding coastline (think endless sand, clear water, and abundant reef fish). Or take a dive-boat-supported scuba trip to the submerged mountains of Los Ladrones, where humpback whales and manta rays roam. At day’s end, try the organic cheese, which is made using ingredients from the resort’s own farm.

Get Lost: Surf Oaxaca

Though it’s no longer a secret, Puerto Escondido, located on the Pacific coast of Oaxaca, still delivers exactly what you need on a Mexican vacation: relaxation and solitude. (Even now, there’s only one daily flight from Mexico City.) Escondido is best known among surfers for Mexpipe, a bone-crushing break on Playa Zicatela, right off the central area. For mortals, there’s the bodysurfing-friendly Playa Principal, to the north, plus no end of lagoons for swimming and snorkeling. When I was here last fall, locals directed me to their favorite hideout, Playa Carrizalillo, a palm-fringed beach that’s great for swimming and mellow longboarding (board rentals, $3.50 per hour; lessons, $20 for two hours; both available at the beach—ask for Ramón). Stay at Villas Carrizalillo (doubles from $150; ), situated on the cliffs above.

Get Lost: Bird-Dog Costa Rica

Great Green Macaw

Great Green Macaw

Little-known fact about Costa Rica: The country—known for being, in essence, one big West Virginia–size eco-resort—experi­ences one of the highest deforestation rates in Central America, thanks to cattle ranching and logging. To promote conservation through tourism, the Rainforest Biodiversity Group recently opened Central America’s first birdwatching route here. Modeled on similar trails in the United States, the Costa Rican Bird Route comprises 5,000 acres on 13 remote sites with 520 avian species. Order a map and a field guide ($13; ) and, once you land at the San José airport, rent a four-wheel-drive (about $50 a day) and hit the rainforest for a week of day hikes. Start in the Tirimbina Rainforest Center (about 1.5 hours northeast of San José) and make for the northernmost part of the trail, near Boca San Carlos, home to the endangered great green macaw. Your launchpad: the Maquenque Eco-Lodge (doubles, $105; ), next to the newly created wildlife refuge of the same name.

Get Lost: Surf El Salvador

Surfers have a knack for scoping out adventure hot spots, and El Salvador is a great place to look: Along the La Libertad coast, just 35 minutes from the capital, San Salvador, small lodges are popping up to cater to the international wave seekers flocking here. Another plus: Surfer chic means surfer cheap. Overlooking two of the region’s best breaks—El Sunzal and La Bocana—is Tekuani Kal, a six-room, Nahua-influenced guesthouse with thatch-roofed patios (doubles from $84; ). The villages along the coast still have a rustic feel—I visited last year and was blown away by the friendly mingling of local and global surfers—but it won’t be long before fancier places move in. For now, it pays to get insider intel. Call on San Salvador–based Cadejo ���ϳԹ���s, which rents boards and offers guided day trips for beginners and experts alike (from $85 per person; ). When you’ve had your fill of surfing, consider the singular experience of scuba-diving inside a dormant volcanic crater at Lake Ilopango, exploring caves and vertical rock walls that drop 600 feet ($90).

Get Lost: Catch a Buzz in Nicaragua

Travel agents like to paint Nicaragua as the next Costa Rica, a volcano-studded landscape full of cloudforests and glassy lakes. Sadly, word has gotten out, and Vegas-size developments are coming to the country’s Pacific coast. But inland, you can still find untrammeled adventure. And damn good coffee. Make a pilgrimage to Finca Esperanza Verde, an eco-lodge and organic coffee farm close to Matagalpa, the country’s café-cultivating center (two-night package, $186; ). The finca’s owners pioneered responsible coffee production and the use of solar power in the region. Hike the Purple Trail, which takes you to the highest point of the 265-acre farm, a 4,000-foot vista overlooking the Dariense mountain range. Afterwards, cool off on the Blue Trail, a circular route that leads through sloth-filled jungle to a swimming hole at the base of a waterfall. It’s a little cold, but you can always warm up with some organic shade-grown in the lodge.

Get Lost: Paddle Belize

Yes, it’s easy to get around English-speaking, dollar-accepting Belize. But the good stuff can be harder to find than you think, and sometimes it pays to turn to the experts. Take Island Expeditions’ new Maya Reef Explorer trip, which brings you to the rich, remote Glover’s Reef Marine Reserve, a World Heritage site 70 miles southeast of the capital, Belize City. From a safari-style base camp, guests sea-kayak the 82-square-mile lagoon in the company of a marine biologist and local guides, hopping from reef to reef (there are more than 700) and poking around sea fans and elkhorn coral in the shallows. After a few days of scoring stellar underwater views, it’s off to the Maya ruins of Lamanai and Altun Ha, where you’ll play Hiram Bingham in the ancient cities before crashing at an eco-lodge near the Crooked Tree Wildlife Sanctuary (five-day trip, $1,199; ).

Get Lost: Honduras

Following the military coup in Honduras this past summer, the hyper-wary U.S. State Department did what you might expect: It issued a travel alert for the country. ���ϳԹ���-travel outfitters also did the expected: They kept on leading trips, despite late-summer riots in the capital, Tegucigalpa. In 2010, Mountain Travel Sobek will run its regular multisport itinerary to Pico Bonito National Park (seven days, $2,995 per person; ). Meanwhile, GAP ���ϳԹ���s is continuing its trips to the Maya ruins at Copán (three days, $659 per person; ). “Our itineraries don’t visit Teguc, and the unrest has nothing to do with tourists,” says Sobek trip leader Mark Willuhn.

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I'M ON A PLANE bound for El Salvador when it hits me: I'm having a vacation emergency.

El Salvador

Illustration by Brian Cronin

��

It's been coming for months—I just didn't know it until now. I was so mentally fatigued I couldn't recognize my own weariness. Little things, stupid things were getting to me. I was irritable, irascible, intolerant, wretchedly humorless, snippy, snooty—in short, in the always candid words of my 11-year-old daughter, Teal, “a real big fat grump.”

My 14-year-old, Addi, repeatedly excoriated me, as only a teenager can, for not getting out of the office. “Dad, you live in there!” But an afternoon off wasn't the answer, nor a long weekend. I tried both, but they were simply too short. My big, stubborn head never disconnected.

Sue, my ever practical wife, suggested I return to the Himalayas without an assignment. “Just go climb a mountain for fun, not for work,” she told me. But oddly enough, a month of ice and snow and oxygen deprivation just didn't sound that appealing. I was thinking warm weather, cold beer, few clothes.

It finally dawned on me that what I really needed was an old-fashioned, honest-to-God family beach vacation.

We chose El Salvador for the promise of surfing and the potential for rock climbing. Besides, it's close, cheap, and would give us all another chance to practice (or, in my case, mangle) our Spanish. We invited five friends to come along: Pat Fleming and his wife, Erika Olson, and John and Mary Spitler and her 15-year-old daughter, Kaitlin Kominsky. I knew John and Pat, both ridiculously overloaded university math teachers, were dying for a vacation, and Sue was overdue for a break from her many school-board meetings.

We'd talked about organizing a group trip for years but had never been able to pull it off until now: We would vamoose for ten full days—a kind of communal antidote to burnout. Sue did all the planning and packing; like an ass, I worked right up until we left for the airport in the predawn dark.

Now, as the plane lifts off, I close my eyes and imagine warm blue waves tumbling over each other, the foaming water sliding up the sand. But then my lovely daydream is rudely interrupted by dreaded workthink—deadlines, arguments, expectations, all the ordinary nonsense stuffed inside the head of every working stiff in America. I yawn, as if by popping my ears I can blast the unwanted thoughts right out of my head.

I can't. Instead I turn to Sue and start to say something about work.

But she won't hear it. “This is the rule,” she says, cutting me off midsentence. “For this entire vacation, no talk about work. None.”

What?! I look at her with what I'm sure is an uncomprehending stare, similar to the face my chocolate Lab, Meggie, gives me when I stop playing fetch—like, Hey, I thought we were having fun.

“You can do it,” she says cheerfully, holding my hand as though I have some kind of grave illness. “You need to do it.” It's a conundrum, to be sure: How to write a story about not working without, well, working?

I don't have the answer to that one, so I put on the headphones and pretend to watch a supremely inane movie even Reese Witherspoon can't salvage. But actually I'm trying to remember the last time I took a real vacation—one in which I mentally and physically vacated from work and everyday life for at least a week.

Slowly flipping back through the years, I search for a single trip in which I wasn't on assignment or scribbling notes for the next story. I decide it was probably when Sue and I traveled by chicken bus with Addi through Costa Rica. Addi got badly bitten by bedbugs in a cheap cabana on the beach. She was 13 months old. Wait a minute—that was 13 years ago.

I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE who's forgotten about vacation. Who hasn't heard a friend bragging about how late he stayed in the office last night or a colleague lamenting the number of unused days off he's racked up?

As a nation, we Americans are among the hardest-working people on earth. A 2001 United Nations report found that we work 49.5 weeks a year—3.5 weeks more than the Japanese, a people who even have a word for working yourself to death: karoshi. Compared with the Europeans, our addiction to the desk is even more profound. We put in 6.5 more weeks of work than the Brits and 12.5 more weeks than the Germans.

Americans' workaholic tendencies have been well documented for years, but a 2005 study called “Vacation Deprivation,” commissioned by the online travel company Expedia.com, reveals just how far over the top we've really gone. The average American employee has the fewest paid vacation days in the developed world: a scant 12. Canadians have 21, the Brits 23, the Dutch 25, the Germans 27, and the liberty-loving French take the prize, with 39—that's right, nearly eight weeks!—paid vacation days a year.

To make matters worse, the Expedia research found that the average American worker will take only nine of his 12 days of vacation. This means that we gave back 421.5 million paid vacation days last year—and lined the pockets of our employers with some $54 billion.

And there are other crushing statistics. More than a quarter of Americans don't take vacation at all. Of those who do, 19 percent end up canceling or postponing their trips at the last minute because of work. According to a 2004 AFL-CIO study, more than 37 percent of American women making $40,000 or less don't get any paid vacation days, and women across the nation receive an average of two fewer days of vacation a year than men.

“Because of job insecurity, American workers often feel huge pressure to be present in the workplace,” says John de Graaf, 59, national coordinator for Take Back Your Time, a Seattle-based advocacy organization devoted to promoting humane work hours. “As the stats show, even if you have the vacation time, you might not take it, for fear of being seen as a slacker and losing your job during the next round of layoffs.”

There's a term for this: It's called vacation deficit disorder.

De Graaf, who produced the 1997 PBS documentary Affluenza: The All-Consuming Epidemic, which was published as a book in 2001, believes a federal law is the first step to overhauling our nose-to-the-grindstone mentality. “No Americans have a legal right to a vacation. It's entirely up to the employer,” he says. By comparison, nearly 100 countries, including almost all industrialized nations, give workers those rights. “You can't even join the European Union without guaranteeing every worker in your country at least four weeks' paid vacation after one year on the job,” de Graaf explains.

By law, employers in Norway must give workers 25 paid vacation days a year—of course, that's Scandinavia. But in Italy, Spain, and Romania it's 20, the Republic of Congo 26, Senegal 24, Togo (where's that, right?) 30, Cambodia 18, Mongolia 15, Brazil 20, Argentina 20. Take Back Your Time lobbies for a three-week paid vacation for all American workers.

“A society as rich as ours should have this,” says de Graaf, who escapes on mountaineering trips in his free time. “Vacations are essential to physical well-being and mental health. They are our opportunity to slow down, to recreate and regenerate, to nourish our souls.”

A DARK, HUMID HEAT welcomes us to El Salvador. We drive north along the Pacific coast with the windows rolled down, sweating, marveling at the visceral deliciousness of a warm night.

Say “El Salvador” and many Americans still think of guerrilla warfare, but the bloodshed ended 14 years ago, and the country has been quietly rebuilding ever since. Lush and studded with volcanoes, El Salvador is the smallest country in Central America—roughly the size of Massachusetts, with a population of nearly seven million—but it has the third-largest economy. Coffee and sugar are the main agricultural exports—in our ten days there, we see hundreds of semis overloaded with sugarcane barreling along well-paved highways—although the garment-assembly industry is now bigger than both. Tourism is on the rise, with almost a million people visiting last year.

Ten miles north of the coastal fishing town of La Libertad, and half an hour from the capital of San Salvador, we check in to a small, inexpensive palm-thatched resort called Atami. The rooms are spartan—single beds with threadbare sheets, no A/C, few fans. What matters is that they're built on a 100-foot cliff that juts out into the sea; to either side is a protected cove and a pristine black-sand beach. The grounds high upon the bluff are like a park, featuring thick grass and coconut palm trees, a round swimming pool, and a pet monkey called Comastú. But the real attractions are the open-air gazebos along the cliff's edge, hung with hammocks where you can swing in the breeze and watch the waves.

Best of all, there's no telephone, no TV, no radio, no Internet, no newspapers. By chance, we've found ourselves in total media seclusion. It's just as well: I didn't bring my laptop and I've vowed to abstain from writing a single word while I'm here.

Our first night, it seems as though the heaviness of the tropical air flowing into our rooms has drugged us. We sleep till 10 a.m.—later than I have in years—then hit the beach.

The west coast of El Salvador is not the easiest place for novice surfers: In early spring, the waves can be big and break badly. In the first three days, we manage to destroy three surfboards. Pat snaps one perfectly in half, Johnnie rides a wave straight into the beach, ripping off the fin, and Erika, in a theatrical sand-and-surf smash-up, partially delaminates the top of a big yellow board.

No worries. Papaya, at Papaya's Surf Shop, in Sunzal, a laid-back beach village, shrugs with a “God, these gringos” sigh and rents us three more ancient fiberglass longboards.

Surfing proves to be the perfect prescription for a mind and body and soul fatigued from overwork. I'm terrible at it. Having grown up in mountains a thousand miles from the sea, where a full bathtub is considered a sizable body of water, I'm an irreclaimable landlubber. I've vomited spectacularly on every ship I've ever had the ill fortune to board. Furthermore, I have never snowboarded, and my few attempts at skateboarding were pavement-whacking, coccyx-cracking affairs.

At first I try paddling my board “outside” and hanging with the real surfers, who manage to catch a wave almost anytime they feel like it. Most of them are on extended hiatus, like the bronzed Swiss attorney I meet one morning who is taking five months off to surf her way up Central America's Pacific Coast.

“My work will be there when I get back,” she tells me between rides. “I trained someone to do my job before I left. It's no problem.”

Unlike her, I find that I either miss the wave or get devastatingly pummeled. At one point I vow to hire an instructor and really work at getting good. But then—something is definitely happening to me—I think: Why? I'm on vacation. I'm not supposed to be working at anything but not working. I decide to chill. I'll stick to the whitewash and leave the big stuff to actual surfers.

HERE'S THE TRUTH about vacations: What you do to get away from it all doesn't matter all that much, as long as you get away. And you don't have to go very far or blow a lot of cash. Holing up at home and shutting off the phone for a week counts, too.

We used to be better at leisure. Back in 1970, Americans actually worked fewer hours than the French. But over the intervening decades, while the French traded gains in productivity for more time off, Americans traded their free time for more work in order to buy more stuff. European labor unions protected jobs by conceding shorter workweeks and more vacation, whereas American corporations simply downsized, firing hordes of employees and placing their work upon the shoulders of those who were left. Today, America has the largest economy of any country in the world, but mostly because we work more hours and take fewer vacations. The fact is, when you look at productivity (output per hour of work), the holiday-loving French are more efficient than us.

“Our society is so obsessively work-driven, just publicly admitting you even take vacation is tough,” says Mike Wallenfels, 43, president of outdoor-gear company Mountain Hardwear and a reformed workaholic who recently returned from a weeklong trip to the Sierra with his family. “The turning point for me came a couple years ago when I finally took a week off to go mountaineering,” he explains. “I couldn't be reached by any means . . . and when I came back, the world was still turning.”

According to Wallenfels, the secret to breaking away is simple: “First, train somebody to cover for you while you're away. Second, check the schedules of your colleagues and take vacation when they're not. Third, black out vacation days on your calendar at least six months in advance, then work everything else around them.”

Wallenfels's suggestions are echoed by journalist Joe Robinson in his 2003 book Work to Live: The Guide to Getting a Life. When I call—wouldn't you know it—his phone machine says he's on vacation for two weeks. Nonetheless, by distilling a few of his ideas and adding some of my own, I arrive at this essential eight-point Vacation Declaration:

1. Take every single day you're given. 2. Go big. Plan vacations of at least one full week. 3. Cut out clean. Put out-of-office messages on your voice mail and e-mail. 4. Leave your gadgets at home; never check in to the office while away. 5. Take a break from all news. 6. Forget a raise—ask for more paid vacation time instead. 7. Vote for politicians who support a federal vacation law. 8. Really vacate: Ban all work talk on vacation.

ONE MORNING toward the end of our trip, I'm out in the ocean off Playa Sunzal before the sun rises. Floating on my board, watching surfers from all over the world, I make a decision: No more half measures.

When a rush of whitewater crashes over me, instead of clamoring ignominiously to my hands and knees, I just stand up. Suddenly I'm surfing. I'm in a catlike crouch just like you see real surfers doing, and the board is planing along the creamy blue water natural as can be, and I'm thinking something articulate, like Wow!

I believe things are going surprisingly well when I notice the front end of the board beginning to nose-dive. I'm catapulted into the air and thenceforth, in surfing patois, “worked”—spun upside down and sideways underwater. When I finally breach, gasping uncontrollably and breathing in brine, I don't realize that my surfboard is at that very moment performing a midair pirouette directly above me. My leash jerks and the board strikes me flat on top of my head, knocking me facedown back into the water. I assume my head is bleeding profusely and that I will have a splendid gash worthy of a surfing war story, but, crawling to shore, I'm disgusted to find myself utterly uninjured.

For the next half-hour I just sit there in the baking black sand waiting for my headache to subside and my ego to recover. On the bright side, it dawns on me that I haven't thought about work for days.

There are other surprises, too. The rock climbing turns out to be just the opposite of surfing: nonexistent. Pat, Johnnie, and I do an all-day recon up the west coast then back through the mountains, banging through cobblestone villages and asking blue-uniformed, sweating-to-death-in-the-hot-sun, machine-gun-toting soldados for directions. We never find anything worth getting out the rope for. This normally would have pissed me off, but not now: I've got more pressing things to do.

Sometimes we surf early in the morning, sometimes we sleep in. We have chicken fights in the swimming pool, throw the Frisbee, toss the Nerf, play cards, search for starfish and frogs. We go to El Zócalo, a restaurant run by Jose Antonio López and his extended family in the nearby village of Conchalion, for pupusas con queso, enchiladas de res, tacos de pollo, and micheladas—a margarita-cum-cerveza that combines lemon juice, ice, salt, pepper, hot sauce, and beer.

A couple of days before we leave, thoughts of home begin to creep back in. We know reentry will be rough—the honeymoon glow of even the best vacation begins to fade after a week back at work. This is all the more reason to plan the next escape. Sitting on the beach, Sue and I start scheming a summer of climbing and camping in the mountains of Wyoming. Pat and Erika talk about taking six months off to travel through South America.

We spend the remainder of our vacation lounging in the shady, luxuriant hammocks along the cliff, reading and snoozing to the faint sound of surf thundering far below.

I'm not a napper, and to be honest I've never been a big fan of hammocks—they're a little too decadent for me. But damn if, after seven or eight days, I don't start drifting off to sleep with a book over my face as the sun crawls higher in the El Salvador sky. I'm on vacation, after all.

The post Breaking Away appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

So, come back every weekday between December 1 and 12 to see what my favorite things are, and what you'll have a chance to win!

Steals & New Trips

STEEP AND CHEAP
From December 6 to April 4, Teton Mountain Lodge is offering the appropriately named Skier's Dream package. Starting at $550 per person (based on double occupancy), two people get five days of lift tickets at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, accommodations at the four-star slopeside Teton Mountain Lodge, and hearty buffet breakfasts at the Cascade Grill House & Spirits—for fueling up before hitting those 4,139 vertical feet of terrain. Seven-night packages starting at $782 are also available. Blackout dates may apply. Contact: 800-801-6615,

IT PAYS TO BE SINGLE
Looking for an island cruise, but the words “based on double occupancy” make you cringe? General Tours feels your pain. Through March 2004, the company is throwing out the single supplement on its weeklong “It's Time to Go! The Galápagos” cruises on the Galápagos Explorer II. The price, starting at $2,599, including airfare from Miami, can save solo travelers as much as $1,200. You'll snorkel near San Salvador Island, hike Bartolomé Island's Pinnacle Rock, and visit Isabela Island's Giant Tortoise Breeding Center. Contact: 800-221-2216,

WINTER ROUNDUP
Hold on to your saddle—RanchWeb.com has corralled three December ranch retreats for nearly half the summer price. Go on horseback-riding trips in the Great Smoky Mountains at the French Broad Outpost Ranch, in Tennessee, or relax in the White Stallion Ranch's casitas at the foot of Arizona's Tucson Mountains, where longhorn cattle stir up dust. And if you like to snowshoe as much as you like to gallop, try Dome Mountain Ranch, which sits on 5,000 acres 20 minutes north of more than 1,100 miles of trails in Yellowstone National Park. Special weekly rates range from $600 to $2,100. Contact:
NEW TRIPS
MONA FOR YOUR MONEY
In December, Florida-based Nekton Diving Cruises adds Puerto Rico's Mona Island to its itinerary with a seven-night scuba voyage on the spacious 17-cabin Nekton Rorqual. Called “the Galápagos of the Caribbean,” the nearly uninhabited island, which lies 50 miles west of Puerto Rico, is home to several threatened and endangered species, including the giant Mona Island iguana and the leatherback sea turtle. Cruises to Mona cost $1,495 per person. Contact: 800-899-6753,

SmartWool Hiking Socks ($16; www.smartwool.com)

Socks are socks, right? A liner sock, something over that, then boots. Wrong. All socks are not created equal, as the SmartWool folks proved when they introduced their first wool socks in 1994. They were an instant revelation—a sock that kept your feet warm when it was cold, cool when it was warm, dry when you were sweating.

The secret: Little pores in the merino wool fibers used in SmartWool socks. These pores are excellent multi-taskers. When you sweat, they soak up moisture, keeping your skin dry to reduce blistering and even smelly feet (damp skin is a perfect breeding ground for stink-producing bacteria). When it's cold, the pores trap insulating air, keeping your feet warmer. Plus, SmartWool's merino is soft, durable, washable, and long-lasting.

I first tried a pair in 1998 or so, wearing them on an eight-mile hike with a new pair of boots. I even put to the test the SmartWool claim that no liner sock was needed. I was instantly sold. Now basically ALL my outdoor socks are SmartWool—for hiking, climbing, bicycling, skiing, you name it (for hiking, though, I do tend to still use a wicking lining sock).

Want your own pair of SmartWool Hiking Socks? for your chance to win today's prize: one of ten pairs of SmartWool socks. And, check back tomorrow to see what's next in the Gear Guy's rundown of the all-star Hall of Gear!
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GSI Lexan Java Press ($20; www.gsioutdoors.com)

Each September, for almost a decade now, my brother Rich and I head off on a multi-day bicycle tour. We've trekked across much of Oregon, Washington, and Montana, pedaled up 4,000-foot mountains, and had more flats than you can count.

Sometimes, after a long day in the saddle and a mediocre night's sleep, it's a little hard to get moving in the morning. What's called for is a good cup of coffee. But average camp coffee is more like industrial sludge—dark, warm, and full of flavors you don't really want. Of course, aficionados know that French-style coffee presses produce the best-tasting coffee outside of a $4,000 espresso machine. But most are made of glass—not a good thing to haul in a pack or pannier. Some companies also make small coffee strainers that fit into a cup. Sure, these are OK, but they're certainly not suited for more than a cup or two at a time.

Solution? The GSI Lexan Java Press. This clever little gadget is light (12 ounces), sturdy (it's made of a near-bulletproof plastic), and best of all makes the finest camp coffee on the planet. A little ground French roast, three or four cups of hot water, and a minute later we're in coffee heaven. The Java Press even has an insulating neoprene jacket so the coffee stays hot while it brews on a cold morning in Yellowstone.

Now, our biggest bicycling problem is hitting the road in the morning. It's just too tempting to stay in camp for one…more…cup.

Want your very own 33-ounce version of the GSI Lexan Press? for your chance to win. And, check back tomorrow to see what's next in the Gear Guy's rundown of the all-star Hall of Gear!
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The Sporty 40

13. Trek An Almost-Impossible Trek
Parque Nacional El Imposible, El Salvador

Southwestern El Salvador's Parque Nacional El Imposible takes its name from the days when coffee growers traversed its clifftop trails to get their bean-laden burros to market—El Imposible was a 300-foot-deep chasm spanned by a tree-trunk bridge. The logs routinely broke, sending burros, men, and tons of coffee tumbling to their end. When the Salvadoran government finally erected a bridge over the gap, it also put up a sign reading: In 1968, it ceased to be impossible.

That sign might better read, “It's not impossible, but it still ain't easy.” To tour the park you need a permit, a guide, and solid grounding in the Salvadoran transportation triathlon: bus, pickup truck, feet. A bus takes you from the provincial city of Sonsonate to the crossroads village of Cara Sucia, where you'll ride eight miles in the back of one of the pickups that go twice daily to the tiny settlement of San Miguelito, near the park's entrance.

Your prize for arriving: a 12,000-acre maze of mountains and ridges encompassing three forest types—though Yankee visitors blinded by the iridescent green foliage may not discern between them. El Imposible is home to a stunning array of biodiversity—some of the nation's rare virgin tropical rainforest, an estimated 400 types of trees, 500 varieties of butterflies, nearly 300 species of birds, and endangered mammals including the jaguar and the margay cat. The best hike is a two-hour trip to the top of 3,600-foot Cerro Leon, where you can glimpse the trail that gives the park its name.

DETAILS: Salvanatura (011-503-279-1515, ), the organization that administers Parque Nacional El Imposible, arranges permits ($5) and guides ($3).
—TIM F. SOHN

14. The Caribbean As It Once Was
Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

Nicaragua is one of the few countries in this hemisphere that doesn't have its own Lonely Planet guidebook. Note to the book's eventual editors: Check out the diving off Little Corn Island. The country's sole PADI-listed dive center, Dive Little Corn, is on this one-square-mile island 50 miles off the Caribbean coast, surrounded by pristine coral reefs and vibrant sea life protected by responsible harvesting practices.

Within three minutes of sticking my mask into the translucent azure water off White Holes, I saw black-tip reef sharks, manta rays, barracuda, and more yellowtail than you can shake a speargun at. (Charter a deep-sea fishing boat if you want to bag some mahi-mahi.) Don't sweat it if you're not a hardcore dive fan—Little Corn is more than just a pretty reef. The Creole-flavored and English-speaking former British protectorate, a ten-mile panga ride north from its sibling, Big Corn Island, has largely escaped Nicaragua's troubled political past. It's a laid-back place to experience the Caribbean as it once was, without motor vehicles (not allowed), telephones, ATMs, or tourist shops.

Casa Iguana and its nine breezy pastel casitas, with their own bleached-white beach, are the antidote to the energy-sapping diving. Once you've freshened up in your outdoor rainwater shower, gaze out from your porch at the blue sea. At dusk, wander along the beach and pick any of the waterfront restaurants. Belly up to a plate piled with lobster, yellowtail, and fried plantains—all for about $6.

DETAILS: Rates at Casa Iguana () range from $20 nightly for an efficiency with shared bath to $75 for a secluded Grand Casita. Dive Little Corn () offers a five-tank dive package, including a night dive, for $165.
—TOM PRICE

15. Hot, Hot, Hot Springs
Arenal, Costa Rica

So you’re flitting around Central America, moving from surf break to village mercado to jungle ruins—the whole circuit. Odds are, sooner or later you’ll end up near Volcán Arenal, in the rugged center of Costa Rica. You want to get close to the 5,400-foot cone to see the crimson lava, but why chance it? There’s a safer, more indulgent perch from which to enjoy the light show than the trails in Parque Nacional Volcán Arenal: a spot in the natural hot springs that flow down Arenal’s flanks. The most magical soaking occurs after nightfall at fancy Tabaón Resort, eight miles outside Fortuna, on the road to Arenal. Tabacón isn’t a surprising diversion, but it is a fun one: Nowhere else on your trip will you find 12 different pools of hot mineral water (80-102 degrees), waterfalls, and a water slide, all backed by minor volcanic explosions.

Pay $19 at the door, claim your towel and locker, then sample all the springs at the sprawling hillside resort, built with Arenal as a fire-breathing backdrop. At night the place has an aura: part exotic bath, part water theme park, part Hollywood fog machine. See plump Eurotravelers in their Speedos. Try a volcanic-mud-mask spa treatment. And be careful on those slippery stairs!

There’s no point in indulging if you can’t gloat, so swim over to the kitschy bar in the middle of the largest pool, sit half in the water drinking Imperials, and write some postcards that read, “Just another lousy day on the road . . .”

DETAILS: Several lodges and motels are clustered in Fortuna, or stay at the 83-room Tabacón Resort (doubles from $140; 011-506-460-2020, ). A mud-mask treatment costs $28.
—JANINE SIEJA

16. Whitewater by Candlelight
Pacuare Lodge, Costa Rica

The split second it takes to translate a Costa Rican river guide’s ¡Al suelo! to “Hit the floor!” is more than enough time for the raft to drop into a Class V hole, fold in half, and spit its slow-thinking, English-speaking contents head first into the Pacuare River. Fortunately, it’s a warm one, and gentle between the rapids.

No roads lead to the Pacuare Lodge, only the river, known for its tendency to swell from a Class III-IV to a Class IV-V in the course of a single overnight rainstorm. Situated an hour and a half from the put-in near the village of Tres Equis, the lodge sits on a five-acre riverfront clearing, cut back in the 1940s for agriculture. But the rest of the lodge’s 60-acre property still contains thousands of 50- to 80-foot-high palms. Naturalist guides can take guests hiking on centuries-old paths or gliding on sky-canopy cables connected to platforms in trees filled with green macaws. Wooden huts with thatch roofs and covered porches are scattered around the main building, where an upstairs open-air lounge serves as the bar. Happy hour means juice and Cacique Guaro, the Tico brand of moonshine that doubles as insect repellent. After a candlelit dinner of snapper with wild mushroom sauce in the dining room, flashlights lead the way to bed.

DETAILS: Overnight trips, with meals, lodging, and rafting gear, cost $259 per person through Pacuare Lodge (800-514-0411, ).
—K. L.

Manzella TEC-850 gloves ($50; www.manzella.com)

This past July, I was climbing Mount Rainier with a friend and two of his buddies. I was the unofficial “guide,” a title accorded me due to my 20 previous summit efforts (proof that the human body can forget discomfort, pain, and that interminable hike from Camp Muir to the parking lot, visible every step of the way but still oh-so-far). After a pleasant two days on our approach and high camp at 11,000 feet, the weather turned. By the time we'd hit 12,000 feet, winds were blowing at perhaps 30 to 40 mph, with gusts even higher. At 13,500 feet we were hard-pressed to keep our feet. Temperatures, meanwhile, plunged into the teens, exacerbated by the wind. We were layered up like soccer moms on a rainy November day.

That is, except for my hands. I had packed along a brand-new sample of the Manzella TEC-850 gloves, made with Power Shield from Malden Mills (makers of Polartec). Despite the wind, despite the cold, despite gripping the freezing metal handle of my ice ax, my hands were warm and dry. “This cannot be,” I kept saying to myself, doing a quick mental inventory to make sure I'd also packed my usual assortment of glove liners, insulating gloves, overmitts, and so forth. I'd packed all those things, but I never needed them.

We didn't summit—the wind just got too bad. But I'd found a pair of gloves that probably are suitable for 90 percent of the times when gloves are needed. The TEC-850s are almost entirely windproof, remarkably warm for their lack of bulk, water resistant, and nimble enough to let you pick up a coin or thread a climbing harness. They're tough, too, and their grippy palms help you keep track of your ice ax. In short, they're wonderful.

For your chance to win one of these indispensable Jack-O-all-trades, . And, check back tomorrow to see what's next in the Gear Guy's rundown of the all-star Hall of Gear!
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Backpacker Outback Oven ($68; www.backpackerspantry.com)

When climbing Denali with my friend Tim in 1997, we enjoyed something nobody else had at the crowded 14,000-foot camp: fresh-baked banana bread. How? With my trusty Outback Oven. This gadget, out now for close to 15 years (the idea came to its inventor when he was struck with a pizza craving during a round-the-world bicycle trip), turns your camp stove into a convection oven essentially capable of baking anything you can bake at home. Biscuits. Brownies. Pizza. Frittatas—literally, anything. Its base unit also makes a handy non-stick skillet.

True, learning to use the Outback Oven is a little tricky. It works by trapping heat from the stove under a reflective, insulated hood. A heat shield beneath the pot helps distribute the stove's heat and also prevent the bottom of your baked item from scorching. But in windy conditions the top of the oven may not heat properly. It's easy, meanwhile, to burn the bottom of whatever is cooking. And, taking the lid off for a quick peek sets the whole process back by five to ten minutes while the oven heats back up.

Learning curve aside, in reasonably skilled hands—mine, for instance—the Outback Oven utterly redefines the concept of outback “dinner time.” Backpacker's Pantry, which now manufactures and sells the Outback Oven, sells a variety of pre-mixed items for it. But, I say, it's more fun to adapt recipes from home and show a little inventiveness.
Win one of these bodacious little ovens by . And, check back tomorrow to see what's next in the Gear Guy's rundown of the all-star Hall of Gear!
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The Sporty 40

17. Forest Plump
Monteverde Cloud Forest Preserve, Costa Rica

Thank some conscientious-objector Quakers from Alabama, fleeing the draft in 1951, and a group of scientists trying to save the golden toad in the early 1970s for creating the granddaddy of all ecotourism destinations, in the Cordillera de Tilarán. Today the fruit of their labors, the 25,000-acre Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve, is Costa Rica’s prized park, with well-maintained trails, more than 400 species of birds—from emerald toucanets to orange-bellied trogons—and a bevy of mammals. (Don’t miss the lively guided walks nightly at 7:30 p.m. for a chance to glimpse orange-kneed tarantulas.)

The result of Monteverde’s popularity is a blanket of neighboring reserves at varying elevations—and different ecosystems—south of Volcán Arenal in north-central Costa Rica. Adjoining Monteverde is the much larger but less visited 50,000-acre Bosque Eterno de Los Niños, established with money raised by schoolchildren around the globe, known for its waterfalls and rainforest hikes. There are two smaller attractions nearby: The Santa Elena Cloud Forest Reserve straddles the Continental Divide, and has eight miles of trails and an above-canopy observation tower; El Jardin de las Mariposas is home to 750 types of butterflies, including zebra longwings and blue morphos, and banks of feeders that draw 26 species of hummingbirds. Both reserves are along the three-mile road between Monteverde and the town of Santa Elena.

DETAILS: Monteverde Cloud Forest Preserve (011-506-645-5122, ) prefers reservations and offers a tour ($12 per person entry fee, plus $15 per person for a day tour, $13 at night). Three miles west of the reserve on the main road, El Sapo Dorado (doubles, $84-$99; 011-506-645-5010, ), named for the famous golden toad, has mountain-view bungalows with terraces.
—AMY MARR

18. Horseshoe Haven
Punta Uva, Costa Rica

At the southern edge of Costa Rica’s Caribbean coast, paradise takes the form of a five-mile horseshoe of white sand framed on one side by sparkling aquamarine water—a comfortable 82 degrees year-round—and on the other by coconut palms and mango trees backed by tropical green mountains. Waves break on colorful coral that extends nearly two miles offshore, but that hardly disturbs the peace: They’re of the small, perfect-for-bodysurfing variety. (Punta Uva, after all, translates to Point Grape, not Point Break.)

Here, in one of the most biodiverse places on earth, you’ll see howler monkeys, sloths, green parrots, butterflies, lizards, birds, and—with the help of a snorkel and a mask—an abundance of marine life. Besides diving and snorkeling, you can also kayak with dolphins or go on an epic bird-spotting mission in the 12,000-acre Refugio Nacional Gandoca-Manzanillo, a maze of tropical rainforests and mangrove swamps that are home to some pretty wild things.

DETAILS: Planted right on the beach, Cabinas Punta Uva (doubles, $40; 011-506-750-0431, ) has ocean views that will make you want to jump right in. Each of the four garden bungalows has a tiled bath and a hammock-strewn deck. And if you fall under the spell of this slice of beach heaven, you can cut a deal on a weekly rate—$210.
—T. F. S.

19. Where the Jaguars and Quetzals Roam
El Sendero de los Quetzales, Panama

“Copa de oro,” repeats my taxi driver, Danilo, on the way to the trailhead for El Sendero de los Quetzales, an extraordinarily steep five-mile hike through the cloudforest of western Panama’s Parque Nacional Volcán Barú. It’s his descriptor of choice for the region surrounding the village of Boquete, in the heart of the Chiriqui Highlands. And why not call it a cup of gold? This forest is a nesting habitat for at least 200 breeding pairs of the path’s namesake, the turquoise-backed, crimson-breasted resplendent quetzal.

But the quetzals are only one of the highland region’s treasures. In Parque Internacional la Amistad—half a million acres straddling the Talamanca range—live 400 bird species and native megafauna like jaguars, tapirs, spider monkeys, and harpy eagles. Also here are trout-rich streams and the headwaters of the Chiriqui and Chiriqui Viejo rivers, whose Class III rapids are frequented by Boquete outfitters.

Check in to the clean, spacious Pensi-n Marilos, near the town square in Boquete, and then wander a block to Café El Punta de Encuentro to try the addictive mango licuados and get another ringing regional endorsement from the proprietor, Olga Rios, who will sigh and tell you, “Boquete is like no other place in the world.”

DETAILS: Rooms at Pensi-n Marilos (011-507-720-1380, ) cost $15. Chiriqui River Rafting (011-507-720-1505, ) charges $75-$100 per person for half-day trips on the Chiriqui or Chiriqui Viejo.
—JEFF HULL

20. Dive Inn
Bocas Inn, Panama

Pulling up to the dock at the Bocas Inn, in Bocas del Toro, I wondered—for about 30 seconds—whether we’d made an enormous mistake. Could we have waited eons for a ferry and then crossed the open seas in the tiny fiberglass skiff only to wind up at a harborside lodge wedged into a ramshackle waterfront? Not on your life. Within minutes we were diving off the inn’s porch into bay water as warm as a bath. Within days, we were completely seduced.

In the middle of Bocas del Toro, a funky expat town on Isla Colón, Bocas Inn is a two-story, aquamarine clapboard building with a restaurant and seven guest rooms, two of which open onto a breezy balcony strung with hammocks. Wake up, pad barefoot down to a breakfast of scrambled eggs, mangoes, and dark Panamanian coffee, then pay a boatman to speed you and your snorkel out to coral gardens to commune with queen angelfish. Or head out to surf mellow, chest-high peelers as they roll off the reefs. The best adventure we found? Catching a water taxi out to a series of thatch-roofed cabanas built over a glassy snorkeling spot known as Coral Key. Cervezas and Frescas cost $1 at the dock’s mint-green snack bar. Hang there for hours, making like a fish or doing pretty much nothing at all.

DETAILS: Doubles at the inn, run by Ancon Expeditions (011-507-269-9415, ), cost $65 per night; meals and activities are extra.
—KIM BROWN SEELY

The Sporty 40

The Rest of the Best

1. Mata Chica Beach Resort, Belize
On a sun-bleached caye off the northern coast, Mata Chica seduces the senses with 14 thatch-roofed beachfront villas, aromatherapy massages, and shrimp paté.
DETAILS: doubles from $190, including breakfast; 011-501-220-5010,

2. El Murmullo de La Casa Que Canta, Mexico
If you’re in Zihuatanejo and looking to splurge, this four-suite villa—built into a black cliff above the Pacific and opened in 2002—is it.
DETAILS: Eight people can rent the villa for $280 per person per night; 011-52-755-555-7000,

3. Parque Nacional Darién, Panama
Hike and paddle dugout canoes through this 1.4-million-acre UNESCO World Heritage Site to see monkeys, ocelots, jaguars, and tapirs. Ancon Expeditions offers a 14-day trip.
DETAILS: $2,495 per person; 011-507-269-9415,

4. Hotel Deseo, Mexico
The 15 elegantly minimalist guest rooms in this Playa del Carmen hideaway are the grooviest on the Mayan Riviera.
DETAILS: doubles from $128; 011-52-984-879-3620,

5. Turtle Inn, Belize
Tucked into a palm forest on the south Caribbean, this cluster of Balinese-style cottages is an hour’s drive from the jaguars in Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary.
DETAILS: doubles from $175; 800-746-3743,

6. Abastos Market, Mexico
Chocolate with almonds and mescal are two treats to be found at Oaxaca’s open-air mercado.
DETAILS:

7. Canopy Tower Ecolodge, Panama
From your treetop-level bed at this eco-lodge in Soberan'a National Park, you’ll wake up eyeing purple-throated fruitcrows.
DETAILS: doubles from $200, including meals; 011-507-264-5720,

8. Tarpon Fishing, Costa Rica
You’ll reel in 100-pound monsters at the mouth of the Río Colorado. Base yourself at the Río Colorado Lodge.
DETAILS: $400 per person per day; 800-243-9777,

9. Puerto Escondido, Mexico
The “Mexican Pipeline” is a legendary break with left- and right-hand tubes at Zicatela Beach.
DETAILS: Rent boards from Central Surf Shop ($10-$12 per day); 011-52-954-582-2285,

10. Río Indio ���ϳԹ��� Lodge, Nicaragua
Catch a lunker (tarpon, snook, mojarra, or machaca) with your Rama Indian guide offshore from this Caribbean eco-lodge.
DETAILS: Three-day fishing packages start at $1,795; 866-593-3176,

11. Cabo Pulmo Eco Villas, Mexico
Spend a week 500 steps from the Sea of Cortez at this casita compound and help the enviro group Amigos para la Conservación de Cabo Pulmo (619-723-0700, gather data on endangered turtles.
DETAILS: Baja Bungalows has five casitas from $50 to $140;

12. Selva Bananito Lodge, Costa Rica
This 11-cabin property near Porto Lim-n has serious eco bona fides: It relies on solar-heated water, recycles gray water, and stocks organic soaps made by a local co-op.
DETAILS: $100 per person per night includes all meals; 011-506-253-8118,

13. Hotelito Desconocido, Mexico
Sixty miles south of Puerto Vallarta, Desconocido has 29 plush yet eco-friendly bungalows: Think Mexican fishing village meets luxury safari camp.
DETAILS: doubles from $230; 800-851-1143,

14. Danzante, Mexico
Twenty miles south of Loreto and a quarter-mile up a hillside from Ensenada Blanca beach sit nine casitas. The solitude might scare your average American, but watch one lazy sunset from the terrace and you’ll be fine.
DEATILS: $135 per person per night; 408-354-0042,

15. Centro Neotrópico Sarapiquís, Costa Rica
Paddle the frothy Class IV rapids of the Río Sarapiquí, in the central part of the country, and unwind in the breezy bar or in your refined palenque at day’s end.
DETAILS: doubles from $72; 011-506-761-1004,

Marmot Arroyo ($259; www.marmot.com)

What packs down the size of a small cantaloupe, weighs less than two pounds, and keeps me warm from sea level to 11,000 feet on Mount Rainier? My Marmot Arroyo sleeping bag. Since I got my Arroyo five years ago, it has been my bag of choice for just about any trip where the temperature doesn't go too far below freezing. But even if it does, the Arroyo's 30-degree rating is plenty conservative, especially if I add a layer of long underwear. And like other Marmot products, the Arroyo is beautifully made.

The latest version of the Arroyo uses high-quality 800-fill down to make a durable and soft bag (faithful Gear Guy readers know I much prefer down over synthetic fill, largely due to its greater comfort). The lining and shell are equally luscious—silky fine-weave nylon that is treated for water-repellency. The Arroyo's mummy shape is snug but not confining, and a close-fitting hood helps keep my head warm on chilly nights. These days, of the half-dozen bags I own, the Arroyo is just about always the one that goes in the pack.

Three lucky readers will have the chance to win their very own Marmot Arroyo! For your chance to win, . And, check back tomorrow to see what's next in the Gear Guy's rundown of the all-star Hall of Gear!
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Salomon Super Mountain Expert Boots ($300; www.salomonsports.com)

Plastic boots are great for glacier climbs such as the big, snowy peaks we have in the Pacific Northwest—Mount Rainier, Mount Baker, Mount Hood, and others. They're warm and waterproof and hold a crampon well. But they're also heavy, clunky on the trails, and, if you have to scramble or climb over little rocks, they have as much foot feel as concrete overboots.

In recent years, several bootmakers have designed “hybrid” boots that combine the wet-condition advantages of plastics with the greater comfort and agility of leather boots. One such beast: Salomon's Super Mountain Expert. This past July, I took the somewhat unorthodox step of removing a pair of these boots straight from the box, lacing them onto my feet, then climbing Mount Rainier. And my feet have never been happier. The boots fit well, kept me warm and dry, provided plenty of rigidity for crampons, and even were comfortable on the hellacious descent down those dreaded asphalt paths over the long, last mile.

Technically, the Super Mountain Expert combines a rubber rand that extends halfway up the boot with a waterproof leather upper. The Salomon-designed sole has soft portions for climbing and harder lugs for durability, and adapts to just about any crampon on the planet. I found its light Thinsulate insulation to be just the right thing for moderately cold weather, and not too warm for lower elevations. And thus, this Salomon boot was inducted as a Gear Guy Favorite Thing.

Two lucky readers will have the chance to see how good these boots really are! For your chance to win, . Check back tomorrow for the final item in the Gear Guy's list of all-time favorite gear!
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The Sporty 40

Café con Acción

Java-loving tourists are discovering a different brew in Mexico and Central America, where small-scale coffee growers have realized—as California wine makers did decades ago—that their surroundings hold as much appeal as their product and have opened up their fincas to guests. Looped on lattes, the visitors take to the forests with their boots, bikes, and binocs, creating a new breed of plantation wildlife: the caffeinated adventurer.

Coffee beans are harvested from six-foot shrubs grown in bird-filled, mountainous rainforests where trails cut for farmworkers double as bikeable, hikeable, horseback-rideable paths. The tourist-friendly farms operate as combination eco-resorts and gourmet tasting venues—a perfect blend for outdoor lovers with refined beverage tastes. Here’s a sampling of five fincas, all family-owned or co-op-run and growing premium brew, where you can gulp and go.

1. Selva Negra Coffee Estate and Mountain Resort
North of Matagalpa, Nicaragua
The Brew: Smooth with medium body and a mildly nutty taste, these organic arabica beans are shade-grown on a family-owned farm. (Sun-grown coffee produces higher yields but contributes to deforestation and erosion.)
While Caffeinated: Lead your sweetie down the Romantico trail, so named because the slippery mud will quickly have you falling into each other’s arms; of the 14 maintained trails that run through the estate’s virgin rainforest, four are open to horseback riders ($4 an hour, Sundays only); visitors can also tour the plantation, including the stable and greenhouse ($3).
When the Buzz Wears Off: Refuel with sausage and sauerkraut at the lakefront German restaurant—the Euro-rooted Kühl family founded the estate in 1880 and continues to run it.
Bedding Down: Sleep off your post-jolt letdown in a youth hostel bed, a hotel-style room, or a private bungalow overlooking the Nicaraguan highlands; rates range from $12 to $50 per person.
Contact: 011-505-612-3883,

2. Finca Argovia
North of Tapachula, Chiapas, Mexico
The Brew: Crisp and clean with a hint of mocha; the arabica beans are shade-grown under a canopy of tall trees that helps maintain the area’s biodiversity.
While Caffeinated: Ride a horse through misty guayabo groves in the Sierra Madre de Chiapas; mountain bike or hike throughout the 460-acre property in the company of peccaries and scarlet macaws (guided activities, gear, and finca tours are included in your stay).
When the Buzz Wears Off: Recharge in the Argovia swimming pool or wander through the flower farm and bury your nose in the oncidium orchids.
Bedding Down: Rooms in the 19th-century plantation home and adjacent palm-fringed lodge have private baths, hot water, and plenty of Old World appeal—the finca has been in the Giesmann family for almost a century. Cost is $125 per person, all-inclusive (meals, transportation, activities).
Contact: 011-52-962-625-9356, . For reservations and finca tours to Argovia and other Tapachula-area coffee farms, call Aromas de Chiapas (011-52-962-625-4754).

3. Finca Esperanza Verde
San Ramón, Nicaragua
The Brew: This perfectly balanced, chocolate-tinged arabica is 100 percent guilt-free (certified organic, shade-grown, and overseen by a nonprofit cooperative that returns all proceeds to the farmworkers and their community).
While Caffeinated: Hop on a horse and let a farmer lead you through 46 acres of forested farmland to see toucans, howler monkeys, and waterfalls; guided rides and birding walks cost $5-$10; helping the workers pick coffee is free.
When the Buzz Wears Off: Borrow a bird guide and study your warblers and wrens, or mosey on down to the honey cooperative and butterfly farm to check out the pollens and pupae.
Bedding Down: A bed in the six-person bunkhouse costs $13 per person per night, and private cabins cost $35 per double. Meals are $3.50 each, or try the all-inclusive weeklong package (meals, tours, and homestays in the nearby village of San Ram-n) for $720 per person.
Contact: 011-505-612-5003,

4. Filadelfia Coffee Estate
Antigua, Guatemala
The Brew: Pleasantly pungent with a sweet aftertaste; coffee here is brewed from award-winning arabica beans that are shade-grown on the family-owned 900-acre farm, where the habitat encourages visits from migratory birds.
While Caffeinated: Zigzag through the coffee fields on foot or fat tires; short stretches of singletrack have been carved between the shrubs for the pleasure of visiting cyclists (bring your own bike or rent one in town).
When the Buzz Wears Off: Learn about the bean biz on the finca tour ($15, including transportation, a T-shirt, and a coffee drink), which drops you off at the tasting room, then pull up a barstool, order more joe, and let triathlete/owner Juan Pablo Aragón chat you up about the local adventure-racing scene.
Bedding Down: There’s no lodging on site (though plans are in the works), but über-charming downtown Antigua—and its plethora of quaint accommodations—is two miles away.
Contact: 713-934-8234, . For a half-day “Sip and Cycle” mountain-bike tour, contact Bike Guatemala ($30; 011-502-914-5808, ).

5. Finca Hartmann
Santa Clara, Chiriqui, Panama
The Brew: Sweet-smelling and smoky with medium body; voted one of Panama’s best in national competitions; the arabica and caturra beans are shade-grown on a family-owned farm that hosts a steady stream of international bird researchers.
While Caffeinated: Search for the elusive quetzal on farm trails and in the neighboring cloudforests of Parque Nacional La Amistad; guides are available to take you through the 370-acre property, 75 percent of which is primary rainforest (prices for guided activities vary).
When the Buzz Wears Off: Retreat to your room and practice your imitation of the local three-toed sloth.
Bedding Down: Semirustic cabins (flush toilets and hot showers, but no electricity) cost $15-$20 per person.
Contact: 011-507-775-5223,

Headstrong to Headlong

You've rebuilt your broken body; now heal the mental damage and come back stronger than ever

The trauma of surgery and the pain of physical therapy can seem insignificant compared with the psychological roller-coaster of getting back into your sport. Or, as U.S. Ski Team Coach Jim Tracy so delicately puts it: “You'll have a lot more shitty days than good days.” The first time back on a bike, skis, or snowboard will be frustrating, and maybe even traumatic. You'll lack fluidity, timing, and, worst of all, the confidence to talk smack to your opponents. Here are the psychological steps to rebuilding your inner superstar.

1. Erase all doubts. “Every time [Picabo] comes in here,” says orthopedic surgeon Richard Steadman, “she just will not accept the fact that she's not going to come back. With her it's always been 'when I come back,' not 'whether.'” Indeed, 90 percent of athletes who commit to their rehab protocol return to sports following ACL surgery, and many return stronger.

2. Involve yourself. “For an athlete, nothing rebuilds peace of mind like committing to the rehab protocol to the nth degree,” says Damon Burton, a Sports Psychologist from the University of Idaho who has consulted with the U.S. Ski Team. Like Street, he recommends knowing every detail of your physical therapy so that when you're back at your sport again you'll know that you have cleared every physical hurdle and your focus can be on technique rather than worrying about what your body can handle.

3. Rebuild incrementally. “It's a progression,” says ski coach Jim Tracy. “We don't throw Street right into another downhill.” Build a foundation of ego-boosting successes by spending your first weeks back in the sport remastering the absolute basics.

4. Know when to drop the hammer. After three career-threatening crashes, Street knows when to say when. If you're not comfortable with a certain speed or technique, don't force it. “You've got to be able to categorize the task at hand, determine if you can overcome the fear,” Street says. “And if you can't, walk away. Because if you don't, the fear will inhibit your chance of succeeding.”

5. Find a mentor. Because U.S. Ski Team members are plagued by knee injuries, they have dozens of successful cases to call upon for inspiration. When you return to your sport, try to work out with someone who has come back from the same injury. He can help you decide when it's okay to push, and when to hold back.

6. Visualize success. After her crash, Street was tormented by nightmares. “I dreamt I'd have to stop mid-race when I hit the fast sections,” she says. To overcome her subconscious fears, Street imagines herself skiing entire downhill runs in rough conditions so that even in her dreams she is winning races. Mentally rehearse the most difficult aspects of what you'll be doing, and picture yourself succeeding each time.

The post The Gear Guy’s Favorite Things appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.

Of course they do—they get to trek with camels. But you can, too! We’ve got the COOLEST TRIPS, TOP TEN TRENDS, EXPERT ADVICE, AND BEST NEW PLACES TO GET LOST IN 2003. So what are you waiting for? Giddyup!




Let the Pros Be Your Guides




Get Lost in the Back of Beyond




Say Hello to the Wild Life




The Next Best Thing to Actually Living There




Go the Extra Green Mile




Take the Multisport Approach




No Whining Allowed




Blazing New Trails by Mountain Bike




Water is the Best Element




Our Next Thrilling Episodes




Remote Trips Right Here at Home




Three Helicopter Epics




Six New Additions to the ���ϳԹ��� Travel Map




What’s Up in the World’s Danger Zones

Star Power

Let the pros be your guides

BIKING THE TOUR DE FRANCE [FRANCE]
What’s better than watching this year’s 100th anniversary of the Tour de France? Riding it, just hours ahead of the peloton. You’ll pave the way for a certain Texan vying for his fifth straight victory, pedaling 10- to 80-mile sections of the race route through villages packed with expectant fans, and over some of the toughest mountain stages in the Pyrenees and Alps. At day’s end, ditch your bike for luxury digs in villages like Taillores, on Lake Annecy, and the Basque hamlet of St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port. OUTFITTER: Trek Travel, 866-464-8735, . WHEN TO GO: July. PRICE: $3,575. DIFFICULTY: moderate to strenuous.

MOUNT EVEREST ANNIVERSARY TREK [NEPAL]
This May, commemorate the 50th anniversary of Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay’s historic climb to the summit of Everest by spending more than a month trekking and mountaineering in Nepal. Starting in Tumlingtar, you’ll hike beneath Himalayan giants like 27,824-foot Makalu, and strap on crampons to climb the 20,000-foot East and West Cols, and cross 19,008-foot Amphu Laptsa pass into the Everest region. At trek’s end in Thyangboche, Hillary’s son, Peter, will preside over a ceremonial banquet, while the man himself (now 83) will join in by sat phone from Kathmandu. OUTFITTER: World Expeditions, 888-464-8735, . WHEN TO GO: April-June. PRICE: $3,690. DIFFICULTY: strenuous. CRUISING THE SEA OF CORTEZ [MEXICO]
To celebrate 25 years in the adventure business, Wilderness Travel has called on Ÿber-mountaineer Reinhold Messner and Amazon explorer Joe Kane to headline a weeklong cruise in the Sea of Cortez. When you’re not on the shallow-draft, 70-passenger Sea Bird, you’ll snorkel with naturalists as they track sea lions off Isla Los Islotes and spot gray whales in Bah’a Magdalena. Sea-kayak around uninhabited islands and hike desert arroyos, then spend evenings swapping expedition tales with Messner and Kane. OUTFITTER: Wilderness Travel, 800-368-2794, . WHEN TO GO: March. PRICE: $4,595. DIFFICULTY: easy.

CYCLING THROUGH THE TUSCAN VINYARDS [ITALY]
Might want to add another front chainring to your bike before embarking on this hard-charging eight-day affair in Toscana, birthplace of cycle touring. Thanks to the expertise of former Giro d’Italia winner Andy Hampsten, this 400-mile route is designed for riders who are as serious about their Brunello as they are about their hills. From coastal Maremma, you’ll pedal little-trafficked backroads past farmhouses and monasteries, resting your climbing legs and dining like a Medici at wine estates and 12th-century hamlets. Four nights will be spent at a vineyard for a thorough indoctrination in winemaking (and tasting). OUTFITTER: Cinghiale Tours, 206-524-6010, . WHEN TO GO: September. PRICE: $3,000. DIFFICULTY: strenuous.

KAYAKING THE YELLOWSTONE RIVER [USA]
Drop into Craten’s Hole with freestyle-kayaking phenom Ben Selznick. Bozeman local and winner of the Gallatin Rodeo 2002, Selznick is your guide on a seven-day tour of Montana’s most famous whitewater. After warming up on the Gallatin River’s Class II-III waves, you’ll graduate to the steep creeks off the Yellowstone, ranging from Class II to V. At night, ease your sore shoulders poolside and fireside at the Chico Hot Springs and Rock Creek resorts. OUTFITTER: GowithaPro, 415-383-3907, . WHEN TO GO: July. PRICE: $4,500. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

Far Out

Get lost in the back of beyond

Big wig: a Papuan prepares for a tribal dance

SHAGGY RIDGE TREK [PAPUA NEW GUINEA]
If you were to drop off the face of the earth, you’d probably land in Papua New Guinea’s steamy Finisterre Mountains. Rising 13,000 feet out of the sweltering lowlands, the mountains’ flanks are choked in jungle thicket that few have ever fully explored—not even the locals. Be among the first. Hike and camp for seven days on tangled game trails and World War II supply routes to Shaggy Ridge, an airy fin of rock 4,900 feet above the Bismarck Sea. Be prepared to answer a barrage of questions from Papuan villagers who rarely, if ever, see outsiders. OUTFITTER: World Expeditions, 888-464-8735, . WHEN TO GO: August, September. PRICE: $2,150. DIFFICULTY: strenuous.

THE ULTIMATE FLY-FISING ADVENTURE [MONGOLIA]
You’ve got much more than a fish on when you’ve nabbed a taimen, a specimen that regularly grows to five feet long and dines on prairie dogs and ducks. If you’re not up for hunting the world’s largest salmonid for a full week on the Bator River, you can cast for lenok, the brown trout of Mongolia; ride horses or mountain bikes; or just enjoy the good life in your ger, a woodstove-heated yurt with two beds and electricity. Outfitter: Sweetwater Travel Company, 406-222-0624, . When to go: May-June, August-October. Price: $5,200. Difficulty: easy.

RAFTING THE FIRTH RIVER [CANADA]
Caribou know no boundaries. Every June, the 150,000-strong Porcupine herd leaves the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge and migrates into the Yukon’s roadless Ivvavik National Park. And because the Class II-IV Firth bisects the park, you’ll be awestruck when thousands cross the river in plain view. Other big game are afoot, too—musk ox, barren land grizzlies, and wolves—and in such high concentrations that the region is often referred to as North America’s Serengeti. With long Arctic days and three- to four-hour river sessions daily, you’ll have plenty of time on this 12-day trip to hike the gently sloping 6,000-foot Brooks Range and fish for arctic char. Outfitter: Rivers, Oceans, and Mountains, 877-271-7626, . When to Go: June. Price: $3,995. Difficulty: moderate.

RIO NEGRO & AMAZON ADVENTURE [BRAZIL]
The upper Rio Negro is your portal back in time on this 11-day adventure that plumbs the deepest, darkest corners of the Amazon Basin. From the former Jesuit outpost of Santa Isabel, you’ll motorboat on the Negro’s blackened waters through virgin rainforest, camping alongside Tucanos Indian settlements stuck in a 19th-century time warp. Off the water, you’ll trek with native Brazilian guides into the rugged tepuis (3,000-foot plateaus), prowling for medicinal herbs used by local shamans. Resist the urge to swim: Football-size piranha call the Rio Negro home. OUTFITTER: Inti Travel and Tours, 403-760-3565, . WHEN TO GO: year-round. PRICE: $2,750. DIFFICULTY: easy.

RUNNING THE KATUN RIVER [RUSSIA]
If you’re looking for bragging rights to a truly remote river, consider the glacier-fed Katun. This 90-mile stretch of whitewater drains from the southern slopes of the 13,000-foot Altai Range, dropping fast through alpine tundra, 300-foot granite canyons, and continuous sets of Class III-IV pool-drop rapids. After a long river day, your evening entertainment at camp consists of traditional Russian dancing and a steamy riverfront bana (sauna). Outfitter: Bio Bio Expeditions, 800-246-7238, . When to Go: July. Price: $2,800. Difficulty: moderate.

COAST TO COAST IN BALBOA’S FOOTSTEPS [PANAMA]
Cross a continent in less than two weeks? Improbable but true when you retrace the route 16th-century conquistador Vasco Núñez de Balboa used to transport riches across the Isthmus of Panama. Five days of hiking, from the Caribbean village of Armila through the Darien Biosphere Reserve, take you to the Chucunaque River, where you’ll board dugout canoes and navigate a maze of flatwater channels past Ember‡ Indian settlements. Four days later, you’ll find yourself on the other side: a wide stretch of beach where Balboa “discovered” the Pacific in 1513. OUTFITTER: Destination by Design, 866-392-7865, . WHEN TO GO: May, December. PRICE: $3,290. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

Close Encounters

Say hello to the wild life

A scarlet macaw perched in the rainforests of Belize

EXPLORING REEF AND RAINFOREST [BELIZE]
Mingle with everything from crocs and tapirs to jabiru storks and hawksbill turtles on this eight-day whirl through Belize. After three days on the mainland, gawking at toucans and parrots at the Crooked Tree Bird Sanctuary and dodging howler monkeys at the Mayan ruins of Lamanai, you’ll be whisked 55 miles offshore to a tented base camp on undeveloped Lighthouse Reef. Spend your days snorkeling, kayaking, and scuba diving within more than 70 square miles of pristine reefs. OUTFITTER: Island Expeditions, 800-667-1630, . WHEN TO GO: December- May. PRICE: $1,929. DIFFICULTY: moderate. WALKING WITH BUSHMEN [BOTSWANA]
See the backcountry of Botswana and all its attendant wildlife—with a twist. On this nine-day safari, you’ll tag along with Bushmen on their daily hunting-and-gathering forays (while still bedding down in luxe lodges and camps). Following the lion-cheetah-leopard-elephant-giraffe-zebra spectacle in the Okavango Delta, you’ll head north for a night to stay in the River Bushmen’s new camp, where you’ll search for medicinal plants or hunt with bow and arrow. Farther south, in the arid Central Kalahari Game Reserve, San Bushmen will show you how they survive on roots and prickly pears. OUTFITTER: Africa ���ϳԹ��� Company, 800-882-9453, . WHEN TO GO: April-November. PRICE: $1,925-$2,595. DIFFICULTY: easy.

SWIMMING WITH HUMPBACK WHALES [TONGA]
It’s been said that life is never the same after you’ve looked into the eye of a whale. Here’s how to find out: Every year between June and October, hundreds of humpbacks congregate in and around the turquoise waters of Vava’u, a group of 40 islands in northern Tonga, in the South Pacific. For seven days, you’ll bunk down in Neiafu at night, and by day slide into the water and float quietly while mammals the size of semis check you out. OUTFITTER: Whale Swim ���ϳԹ���s, 503-699-5869, . WHEN TO GO: August- October. PRICE: $1,180. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

Immersion Therapy

The next best thing to actually living there

REMOTE HILL TRIBE TREK [VIETNAM]
Despite the boom in adventure tourism in Vietnam, few travelers venture into the far-northern hill country, some 200 miles north of Hanoi. You should. Following overgrown buffalo paths and ancient Chinese trading trails, you’ll hike steep terrain for 120 miles over 11 days, traveling north from Cao Bang and staying with Nung villagers in huts on stilts. Save some film for Ban Gioc Falls, on the border with China, and Pac Bo Cave, Ho Chi Minh’s legendary hideout. Outfitter: World Expeditions, 888-464-8735, . When to go: October-March. Price: $1,490. Difficulty: moderate.

TREKKING THE ATLAS MOUNTAINS [MOROCCO]
The M’goun Gorge is so narrow in places, you can’t see the sky—let alone the craggy summits of the nearby 12,000-foot Atlas Mountains. But they’re never out of sight for long on this ten-day trip through small Berber burgs in Morocco’s most fabled range. Over four days of hiking, you’ll climb Tizi n’ AïImi, a 9,528-foot pass, and sleep in Berber farmhouses en route to the Valley of AïBou Guemez, a rare oasis where you’re welcomed as family. OUTFITTER: Living Morocco, 212-877-1417, WHEN TO GO: May. PRICE: $2,950-$3,050. DIFFICULTY: easy.

BARACOA-GUANTÁNAMO CYCLE TOUR [CUBA]
Ride beneath the radar on this Canadian outfitter’s weeklong, 300-mile bike tour of Cuba’s northern coast, past black-sand beaches and nature reserves. The towns en route—Mayar’, a village immortalized by Cuban crooner Compay Segundo, and lush Baracoa—see few tourists and fewer cyclists, so you’ll have La Farola, a winding mountain pass known as “Cuba’s roller coaster,” all to yourself. Use caution when hydrating: Rum’s cheaper than water. OUTFITTER: MacQueen’s Island Tours, 800-969-2822, . WHEN TO GO: April, December. PRICE: $2,595, including round-trip airfare from Toronto. DIFFICULTY: moderate to strenuous.

SNOWSHOEING THE RHODOPE MOUNTAINS [BULGARIA]
Haven’t heard of the Rhodopes? No surprise. Obscurity has helped keep these 7,000-foot peaks in southern Bulgaria among the least visited in Europe. You’ll spend four to seven hours a day snowshoeing along ancient footpaths, through deep drifts and pine forests, to the slopes of Mount Cherni Vruh. Medieval monasteries and village guesthouses provide shelter on this eight-day trip, and Bulgarian perks include homemade sirine (a local feta cheese) and chance sightings of the Asiatic jackal. Outfitter: Exodus, 866-732-5885, . When to Go: February, December. Price: $775. Difficulty: moderate.

It’s Only Natural

Go the extra green mile

RAFTING THROUGH THE RÍO PLÁTANO BIOSPHERE RESERVE [HONDURAS]
Hail the monkey god on this 12-day rafting expedition through the R’o Pl‡tano Biosphere Reserve in eastern Honduras, a primordial jungle where more than 100 archaeological sites are covered with petroglyphs of the primate deity. On the R’o Pl‡tano, you’ll run Class III-IV rapids and float through serene limestone grottos, encountering en route the full Animal Planet menagerie of macaws, tapirs, spider monkeys, anteaters, and, with any luck, jaguars. At trip’s end, you’ll “hot dance” in a Garifuna Indian village. OUTFITTER: La Moskitia Ecoaventuras, 011-504-441-0839, . WHEN TO GO: December-August. PRICE: $1,430-$1,765. DIFFICULTY: moderate. DOCUMENTING RARE RAINFOREST PLANTS [CAMEROON]
Thanks to 4,000 resident species of plants, Cameroon’s 6,500-foot Backossi Mountains are a horticulturalist’s dream. Join scientists from England’s Royal Botanic Gardens and Bantu guides for 13 days to help inventory rare forest flora such as endangered orchids, edible fruits, and a new species of bird’s-nest fern. You’ll camp in a nearby village or bunk in a community hall and learn to prepare local fare, including plantains, fu-fu corn, and cassava. OUTFITTER: Earthwatch Expeditions, 800-776-0188, . WHEN TO GO: March-May, October-November. PRICE: $1,295. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

EXPLORING NAM HA [LAOS]
The Lao equivalent of a national park, the 858-square-mile Nam Ha National Biodiversity and Conservation Area in northwestern Laos offers some of Southeast Asia’s wildest rafting and trekking. Spend ten days paddling Class III whitewater on both the Nam Ha and Nam Tha rivers, sleeping in villages and bamboo-and-thatch bungalows at the Boat Landing Ecolodge, and trekking with local guides deep into the jungle, on the lookout for tailless fruit bats and Asiatic black bears. OUTFITTER: AquaTerra Ventures, 011-61-8-9494-1616, . WHEN TO GO: June-January. PRICE: $1,150. DIFFICULTY: easy to moderate.

ECO-TRAIL SAFARI IN KRUGER NATIONAL PARK [SOUTH AFRICA]
Go trekking with rangers on the newly designated Lebombo Eco-Trail, which runs for more than 300 miles along the previously off-limits eastern border of South Africa’s Kruger National Park and Mozambique. You might encounter rhinos, zebras, and even the lowly dung beetle in Africa’s most biodiverse park. You’ll also trek into nearby 200-million-year-old Blyde River Canyon and stalk lions on a walking safari. OUTFITTER: Sierra Club, 415-977-5522, . WHEN TO GO: September-October. PRICE: $3,695-$3,995. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

Variety Packs

Take the multisport approach

Skiing the extra mile: Norway’s version of the Alps

CROSSING THE PATAGONIAN ANDES [CHILE AND ARGENTINA]
The Edenic Río Manso Valley, at the southern tip of South America, is pure Patagonia—high, open country surrounded by ancient alerce forests (think redwoods) and populated by gauchos and trout. How you choose to play on this nine-day camping trip—rafting the Manso’s Class IV-V rapids, casting for rainbows, or horseback riding along the riverfront trail—is up to you as you venture west from the altiplano of Bariloche toward the chiseled fjords of coastal Chile. OUTFITTER: ���ϳԹ��� Tours Argentina Chile, 866-270-5186, . WHEN TO GO: December-March. PRICE: $2,900. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

MUSHING WITH THE GREAT WHITE BEAR [NORWAY]
You take the reins on this 12-day dogsledding sojourn across the frozen island of Spitsbergen, Norway, 600 miles from the North Pole. When the huskies are resting, keep busy by snowshoeing amid gargantuan icebergs, cross-country skiing over glaciers, and spelunking blue-green ice caves. Defrost at night in a lodge made of sealskin and driftwood, expedition-style tents (you’ll be snug beneath reindeer-fur blankets), and a Russian ship intentionally frozen into the pack ice. Your only neighbors will be the island’s 4,000 polar bears (in case of emergency, your guide’s got the gun). OUTFITTER: Outer Edge Expeditions, 800-322-5235, . WHEN TO GO: March-April. PRICE: $3,990. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

POST ECO-CHALLENGE MULTISPORT [FIJI]
The professional adventure racers have gone home, so now you can spill your own sweat on the 2002 Eco-Challenge course. This new ten-day trip gives you access to some truly wild, made-for-TV terrain: mazy jungle trails, precipitous singletrack, and idyllic beaches. After sea-kayaking two days to the island of Malake, where spearfishermen bring up walu for dinner on a single breath of air, you’ll mountain-bike 25 miles over rugged terrain from the village of Ba to Navilawa. Next up is a two-day trek through lowland rainforests to the summit of 3,585-foot Mount Batilamu, followed by Class II-III rafting on the Navua River, from the coral coast to the interior village of Wainindiro. After all this, you’ve earned two days of beachfront R&R on the little-visited island of Kadavu. OUTFITTER: Outdoor Travel ���ϳԹ���s, 877-682-5433, . WHEN TO GO: May-October. PRICE: $1,999. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

Take It to the Top

No whining allowed

The frozen zone: Argentina’s Perito Moreno Glacier

CONTINENTAL ICE CAP TRAVERSE [ARGENTINA]
Patagonia’s 8,400-square-mile slab of ice wasn’t even explored until the 1960s, when British explorer Eric Shipton crossed it first. Starting in El Calafate, on the shore of Lago Argentino, this arduous 16-day backpacking/ski-mountaineering trip cuts through Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, where you’ll cross rivers and crevasses, ascend 4,830 feet to Marconi Pass, do time on ropes, crampons, and skis, and set up glacial camps along the spine of the Fitz Roy Range. The payoff? A wilderness fix on the gnarliest mass of ice and granite this side of the South Pole. OUTFITTER: Southwind ���ϳԹ���s, 800-377-9463, . WHEN TO GO: November-March. PRICE: $3,395. DIFFICULTY: strenuous. SURFING EPIC WAVES [THE MALDIVES]
Board where few have surfed before: off the Indian Ocean’s remote Huvadhoo Atoll, site of several world-class breaks. Huvadhoo is a two-day voyage on a dhoni, a 60-foot, five-cabin, live-aboard wooden yacht, from the capital, Male; along the way, cast off the deck for tuna, marlin, and bonito. Once at the Huvadhoo, be ready for eight-foot-plus waves, especially near the atoll’s largest island, Fiyori, where there’s a fast (and dangerous) right break. OUTFITTER: Voyages Maldives, 011-960-32-3617, . WHEN TO GO: April-September. PRICE: $85 per day (typically a 7-, 10-, or 14-day tour). DIFFICULTY: strenuous.

RAFTING THE BRAHMAPUTRA RIVER [INDIA]
With 112 miles of Class III-V+ Himalayan runoff, the Brahmaputra, the lower portion of the legendary Tsangpo in Tibet, is one of the planet’s ultimate whitewater challenges. And a relatively new one at that—the first commercial rafting expedition was launched late last year. You’ll spend nine days blasting down emerald-green hydraulics (the Class V Breakfast Rapid is famous for flipping rafts), camping on sandy beaches, and passing through Namdapha National Park, home to one of Asia’s most varied tropical forests. OUTFITTER: Mercury Himalayan Explorations, 011-91-112-334-0033, . WHEN TO GO: November-February. PRICE: $3,300, including internal airfare. DIFFICULTY: strenuous.

Get Wheel

Blazing new trails by mountain bike

Sandstone heaven: on the rocks in Cappadocia

RIDING THE RUGGED NORTHEAST [PORTUGAL]
A good set of knobbies and generous helpings of local beef and nightly port will help you tackle this eight-day inn-to-inn tour through Portugal’s wild northeast corner. Dodge cows on Roman pathways, follow craggy singletrack alongside the Douro River, and spin along trails once used by smugglers trafficking coffee beans to Spain. The grand finale is the wide-open wilderness of the remote Serra da Malcata—land of pine-topped peaks, wild boar, and little else. OUTFITTER: Saddle Skedaddle Tours, 011-44191-2651110, . WHEN TO GO: May-July. PRICE: $1,120. DIFFICULTY: strenuous. MOUNTAIN-BIKING CAPPADOCIA [TURKEY]
In our opinion, any trip that starts off with two nights in a traditional cave hotel has promise. See for yourself on this six-day, 180-mile ride through Cappadocia in central Turkey. Thank three-million-year-old volcanic eruptions for the otherworldly terrain: impossibly narrow sandstone spires (called fairy chimneys) and towns that plunge 20 floors underground. Happily, the riding is as varied as the views. You’ll pedal along dry riverbeds, slickrock, and narrow jeep tracks en route to each day’s destination—luxe campsites or charming village inns. OUTFITTER: KE ���ϳԹ��� Travel, 800-497-9675, . WHEN TO GO: May. PRICE: $1,695. Difficulty: strenuous.

SECRET SINGLETRACK [BOLIVIA]
It was only a matter of time before Bolivia’s ancient network of farm trails, winding from village to village high in the Andes, found a modern purpose: mountain biking. On this new 14-day singletrack tour through the Cordillera Real near La Paz, intermediate riders can rocket down 17,000-foot passes, contour around extinct volcanoes, and rack up an epic grand-total descent of 54,000 feet. Nights are spent camping at Lake Titicaca and in local pensions like the Hotel Gloria Urmiri, where natural hot springs await. OUTFITTER: Gravity Assisted Mountain Biking, 011-591-2-2313-849, . WHEN TO GO: May-September. PRICE: $1,750. DIFFICULTY: strenuous.

COPPER CANYON EXPEDITION [MEXICO]
There’s lots to love about the 6,000-foot descent into Mexico’s Copper Canyon by bike—and gravity is only part of it. Get down in one piece and you’ll have a week’s worth of technical riding ahead of you in a canyon four times the size of Arizona’s Grand. Cool your toes on fast, fun river crossings near the village of Cerro Colorado, visit the indigenous Tarahumara, and bunk down in a restored hacienda built into the canyon walls. OUTFITTER: Worldtrek Expeditions, 800-795-1142, . WHEN TO GO: September-April. PRICE: $1,599. DIFFICULTY: strenuous.

The Deep End

Water is the best element

SAILING ON THE ECLIPSE [PALAU]
Captain John McCready’s 48-foot Eclipse—outfitted with a compressor, dive tanks, sea kayaks, and rigs for trolling—is your one-stop adventure vessel for exploring this South Pacific archipelago. After picking up the sloop near the capital, Koror, give yourself at least six days to explore Palau’s protected lagoon in the Philippine Sea, dive along miles of coral walls, and kayak and hike some of the more than 200 limestone Rock Islands. By the time you reboard each evening, chef Charlie Wang will have your pan-seared wahoo waiting. OUTFITTER: Palau Sea Ventures, 011-680-488-1062, . WHEN TO GO: November-June. PRICE: $4,200 for the entire boat (which sleeps four passengers) for six days, including captain, dive master, and cook. DIFFICULTY: easy.

SEA-KAYAKING THE MASOALA PENINSULA [MADAGASCAR]
Once a refuge for pirates, Madagascar’s rugged northeast coast has been reborn as Parque Masoala, the country’s newest and largest national park. For nine days, you’ll explore the calm coastal waters by sea kayak, watching for humpback whales, snorkeling the coral reefs, spearfishing for barracuda, combing the shorelines of deserted islands, and sleeping in one of two rustic tented camps. Onshore, scout for lemurs in the rainforest with Malagasy guides. OUTFITTER: Kayak Africa, 011-27-21-783-1955, . WHEN TO GO: September-December. PRICE: $1,080. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

SNORKELING AND SEA-KAYAKING NINGALOO REEF [AUSTRALIA]
A virtually untouched alternative to the Great Barrier Reef, Western Australia’s Ningaloo Reef is a 162-mile close-to-shore coral barrier protecting the white-sand beaches and high-plateau shrublands of Cape Range National Park from the Indian Ocean. Mellow two- to four-hour paddling days on this five-day romp up the coast are punctuated by snorkeling in 70- to 80-degree turquoise waters (never deeper than 13 feet), swimming with whale sharks just outside the reef, and hanging at the plush moving camp. OUTFITTER: Capricorn Kayak Tours, 011-618-9-433-3802, . WHEN TO GO: April-mid-October. PRICE: $450. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

KITESURFING SAFARI [BAHAMAS]
Steady winds, warm waters, and world-class instructors—essential ingredients for a perfect kitesurfing vacation—exist in plenitude among the numerous tiny islands off Abaco in the Bahamas. During this weeklong clinic, you’ll master board-off tricks and 360 jump turns, learn to sail upwind more proficiently, and critique videos of your kite moves over coconut-rum drinks at the seven-cottage Dolphin Beach Resort on Great Guana Cay. OUTFITTER: Kite Surf the Earth, 888-819-5483, . WHEN TO GO: mid-January-May. PRICE: $990, including airfare from Fort Lauderdale and all gear. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

Future Classics

Our next thrilling episodes

Everest’s seldom-scene cousin: Tibet’s Kawa Karpo

CLIMBING MUZTAGH ATA, “FATHER OF ICE MOUNTAINS” [CHINA]
Already been to Everest Base Camp? Next time, head to Muztagh Ata, a raggedy 24,754-foot summit in the Karakoram Range in China’s Xinjiang province. The five-day trek (instead of yaks, you’ve got camels!) starts at 12,369 feet, climbing through grasslands and river valleys to Camp One at 17,388 feet—where not one but ten glaciers converge in a vast expanse of ice and snow. Outfitter: Wild China, 011-86-10-6403-9737, . When to go: September- October. Price: $2,710. Difficulty: strenuous. PILGRIMAGE TO KAWA KARPO [TIBET]
Mount Kailash gets all the press—and all the Western trekkers. But this May, another sacred Buddhist route, the annual pilgrimage to Kawa Karpo, a 22,245-foot fang of snow and ice, will open to Western visitors. The 18-day camping trek climbs out of semitropical rainforest and Tibetan villages before circling the peak’s base. Snow leopards live here, too, but if you don’t catch a glimpse, at least you’ll leave with a lifetime’s supply of good karma. OUTFITTER: High Asia Exploratory Mountain Travel Company, 203-248-3003, . WHEN TO GO: May, July, October. PRICE: $3,800-$5,000. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

TREK THE VILCABAMBA [PERU]
Now that they’ve limited tourist permits on the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, we’re left wondering, What else is there? How about a 17-day camping trek to Peru’s lost city of Victoria, a 600-year-old ruins discovered in 1999 and encircled by 19,000-foot peaks of the Cordillera Vilcabamba. You’ll log some 40 miles over ancient Incan walkways along the Tincochaca River, and then climb 15,000-foot Choquetecarpo Pass. Once at Victoria, you’ll have the excavated homes and ceremonial sites all to yourself. OUTFITTER: Wilderness Travel, 800-368-2794, . WHEN TO GO: May-June. PRICE: $3,895. DIFFICULTY: strenuous.

All-American

Remote trips right here at home

THE ALASKAN CLIMBER [ALASKA]
Many peaks in the Chugach Mountains of southeast Alaska remain unnamed and unclimbed. Your objectives are the 12,000-foot summits of Mount Valhalla and Mount Witherspoon, but even with a ski-plane flight into the range, you’ll still spend 20 days hauling, trekking, and climbing on this self-supported trip. Outfitter: KE ���ϳԹ��� Travel, 800-497-9675, . When to Go: April. Price: $2,895, including flights within Alaska. Difficulty: strenuous. DOGSLEDDING AND WINTER CAMPING [NORTHERN MINNESOTA]
Forget your leisurely visions of being whisked from campsite to campsite: Dogsledding is serious work. During four days in the wilderness bordering the Boundary Waters Canoe Area, you’ll learn how to handle your team of malamutes and brush up on winter camping techniques. Outfitter: The Northwest Passage, 800-732-7328, . When to Go: January-February. Price: $895. Difficulty: moderate.

RAFTING THE OWYHEE RIVER [NEVADA, IDAHO, AND OREGON]
This 17-day, 220-mile trip on the rarely rafted, Class II-IV Owyhee takes you down one of the longest and most remote stretches of runnable river in the Lower 48, through rugged canyon country. Need something shorter? Several sections can be run in four to seven days. Outfitter: River Odysseys West, 800-451-6034, . When to Go: May. Price: $3,735. Difficulty: moderate.

HALEAKALA CRATER SEA-TO-SUMMIT HIKING EXPEDITION [MAUI]
Go from sea level to 9,886 feet on this three-day trek from Maui’s sandy shores, through Hawaiian rainforests, to the moonlike floor of Haleakala Crater. You’ll climb 11 miles and 6,380 feet on the first day alone—good thing horses are hauling your gear. Outfitter: Summit Maui, 866-885-6064, . When to Go: year-round. Price: $1,190-$1,390. Difficulty: moderate.

GRAND GULCH TRAVERSE [UTAH]
What’s better than backpacking the 52-mile length of the Grand Gulch Primitive Area in southeastern Utah? Llama-trekking for much of the same seven-day route, past ancient Anasazi ruins and more recent historic landmarks—including Polly’s Island, where Butch Cassidy, some say, crossed the Gulch. Outfitter: Mountain Travel Sobek, 888-687-6235, . When to Go: April. Price: $2,590. Difficulty: moderate.

Elevator, Going Up

Three helicopter epics

MOUNTAIN-BIKING THE CELESTIAL MOUNTAINS [KAZAKHSTAN]
Just as your quads begin rebelling during this two-week, 300-mile traverse of the Tien Shan—the fabled 21,000-foot mountain range that separates Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan from China—a midtrip bonanza brings relief: A Communist-era cargo helicopter will whisk you to the top of the 12,000-foot “hills” for two days of screaming singletrack and goat-trail descents. Outfitter: KE ���ϳԹ��� Travel, 800-497-9675, . When to Go: July-August. Price: $2,395. Difficulty: strenuous.

RAFTING IN THE HOOKER RANGE [NEW ZEALAND]
Rarely boated, the upper reaches of southwestern New Zealand’s Landsborough River and the nearby Waiatoto are so remote that the only way to the put-ins is by helicopter. You’ll spend seven days roaring down Class III and IV rapids on both rivers, fishing for brown trout, searching for keas (the world’s only alpine parrot), and camping under the gazes of 10,000-foot peaks Mount Deacon and Mount Aspiring. Outfitter: Mountain Travel Sobek, 888-687-6235, . When to Go: March, December. Price: $3,190. Difficulty: moderate.

SHOOTING THE COLUMBIA MOUNTAINS [BRITISH COLUMBIA]
Spend four days coptering from Adamant Lodge in the Selkirks to remote 10,000-foot hiking trails in the Columbia Mountains for a photography workshop with widely published outdoor lensmen Chris Pinchbeck and Paul Lazarski. After pointers on lens selection and composition, shoot sunrise-lit alpine meadows till your film runs out. Outfitter: Canadian Mountain Holidays, 800-661-0252, . When to Go: July. Price: $2,360. Difficulty: easy.

Most Likely to Succeed

Six new additions to the adventure travel map

SURFING THE WILD EAST [EL SALVADOR]
Though the civil war ended 11 years ago, it’s been difficult to access El Salvador’s remote eastern point breaks on your own. Now you can hook up for eight days with Punta Mango’s local guides to surf Los Flores, La Ventana, and other perfecto Pacific peelers. OUTFITTER: Punta Mango Surf Trips, 011-503-270-8915, . WHEN TO GO: year-round. PRICE: $394-$818. DIFFICULTY: moderate. EXPLORING ISLANDS AND VOLCANOES [NICARAGUA]
Once a war-torn dictatorship, Nicaragua is now drawing scads of expatriates to its safer shores. Hike and mountain-bike around belching 5,000-foot volcanoes on the Pacific side, and kayak, fish, and loll in natural hot springs on islands in Lake Nicaragua. OUTFITTER: Nicaragua ���ϳԹ���s, 011-505-883-7161, . WHEN TO GO: November-September. PRICE: weeklong trips start at $600. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

RAFTING THE SOCA RIVER [SLOVENIA]
Spilling from the Julian Alps, the roiling Soca has long been a backyard destination for Europe’s whitewater intelligentsia. With improved infrastructure and an exchange rate favorable to Americans, now’s the time to hit this Class II-IV river. OUTFITTER: Exodus Travel, 800-692-5495, . WHEN TO GO: June-September. PRICE: eight-day trips, $715. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

BIKING AND BOATING THE DALMATIAN COAST [CROATIA]
Sail from island to island in the Adriatic Sea, stopping to cycle the nature reserves and medieval villages, safe again after a decade of political strife. OUTFITTER: Eurocycle, 011-43-1-405-3873-0, . WHEN TO GO: April-October. PRICE: eight-day cruise, $690-$740. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

MOUNTAIN-BIKING IN THE JUNGLE [SRI LANKA]
While the northeast is still volatile, don’t discount a southerly traverse of the island by mountain bike, through lush jungles and over cool mountain passes. OUTFITTER: ���ϳԹ���s Lanka Sports, 011-94-179-1584, . WHEN TO GO: year-round. PRICE: 15-day trip, $985. DIFFICULTY: moderate.

TRACKING GORILLAS [GABON]
Onetime host to warring guerrillas but permanent home to the peaceful lowland gorillas, Lopé-Okanda Wildlife Reserve is the jewel of Gabon, nearly 80 percent of which is unspoiled forest woodlands. OUTFITTER: Mountain Travel Sobek, 800-282-8747, . WHEN TO GO: February-March, August. PRICE: $6,490 (19 nights). DIFFICULTY: easy.

Cautionary Trails

What’s up in the danger zone

When it comes to foreign travel, how risky is too risky? It’s hard to know. But the best place to start researching is the U.S. State Department (). At press time,* these 25 countries were tagged with a Travel Warning advising against nonessential travel. Here’s the lowdown on what you’re missing—and just how dicey things really are.

RISK LEVEL:
1��������GENERALLY SAFE
2��������SIGNIFICANTLY RISKY
3��������EXTREMELY RISKY

AFGHANISTAN
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Despite the U.S.-led Operation Enduring Freedom, now in its 18th month, Taliban holdouts still lurk in a country once known for great hospitality (and hashish).
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Trekking in the Hindu Kush’s remote, red-cliffed Bamiyan Valley, where the Taliban destroyed two monumental fifth-century Buddhas carved into mountain rock
RISK: 3

ALGERIA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Terrorism in this oil-rich country has dropped off slightly in recent years, but there is still risk of sporadic attacks in rural areas and on roadways, especially at night.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Hiking in the El Kautara Gorges and the jagged Ahaggar Mountains, near the town of Tamanrasset
RISK: 2

ANGOLA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
An April 2002 cease-fire put a stop to the 25-year civil war, though millions of undetonated mines are still believed to litter the countryside.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Checking out Operation Noah’s Ark, an effort to relocate elephants and giraffes from Namibia and Botswana to the savannas of Quicama National Park in the northwest
RISK: 2

BOSNIA-HEREGOVINA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
The 1995 Dayton Accords ended the war between Muslim Bosnians, Serbs, and Croats, but UN troops remain to control localized outbursts of political violence, which are sometimes directed toward the international community.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Some of the best—and cheapest—alpine skiing in all of Europe at the Dinari Range’s 6,313-foot Mount Jahorina, site of the 1984 Winter Games
RISK: 1

BURUNDI
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Decades of ethnic strife between Hutus and Tutsis have killed hundreds of thousands. The resulting poverty and crime can make tourist travel dangerous in this small, mountainous nation.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Scuba diving in Lake Tanganyika, at 4,710 feet the world’s second-deepest lake (after Russia’s Baikal) and home to some 600 species of vertebrates and invertebrates
RISK: 2

CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
After independence from France in 1960 and three decades under a military government, C.A.R. was turned over to civilian rule in 1993. Still, it remains beset with instability and unrest.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Bushwhacking and hiking with Pygmy guides through the rainforests of Dzanga-Ndoki, arguably the most pristine national park in Africa
RISK: 2

COLOMBIA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Dubbed “Locombia” (the mad country) by the South American press, Colombia is rife with cocaine cartels, guerrilla warfare, and more kidnappings than any other nation in the world.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Encounters with the pre-Columbian Kogi people while trekking through dense jungle and the isolated 19,000-foot Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta Mountains
RISK: 3

DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF CONGO
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Though rich in diamonds, gold, and timber, this equatorial country is still in tatters—famine, millions of displaced refugees (since Mobutu’s despotic 32-year rule ended in 1997).
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Mountaineering in the Ruwenzori Mountains on 16,763-foot Mount Stanley, Africa’s third-highest peak
RISK: 3

INDONESIA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Anti-Western terrorist attacks in Bali and separatist violence in West Timor, the province of Aceh, central and west Kalimantan, and Sulawesi have destabilized the world’s largest archipelago.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Surfing Sumatra’s legendary breaks off the island of Nias and jungle trekking in Gunung Leuser National Park
RISK: 2

IRAN
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Despite inclusion in Bush’s “axis of evil” and the U.S.’s suspension of diplomatic relations, Iran is generally safe—though travel to the Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Iraq borders is best avoided.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Skiing in the 12,000-foot-plus Elburz Mountains, where the resort in Dizin receives more than 23 feet of snow annually and lift tickets cost $4 a day
RISK: 1

IRAQ
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Even if you wanted to go to Iraq, no U.S. commercial flights enter the country that’s ruled by the world’s most infamous dictator.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Canoeing the Marshes, the historic ecosystem at the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers—birthplace over 10,000 years ago of the Mesopotamian civilization
RISK: 3

ISRAEL
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Israel has been a hotly contested geopolitical and religious crucible since 1948, but the two-and-a-half-year Palestinian intifada has produced more suicide bombings than any other period.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Scuba diving to the underwater ruins of Herod’s City at Caesarea, along the palm-fringed Mediterranean coast
RISK: 2

IVORY COAST
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE
Once the most stable West African country, this coffee-producing nation suffers from falling cocoa prices and clashes between Christians and Muslims.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING
Trekking through the virgin rainforests of Taï National Park, home to the threatened pygmy hippopotamus
RISK: 2

Be aware that the State Department also posts advisories about unstable regions in many other countries, like Kyrgyzstan and Nepal. Carefully check the Web site’s postings and consult with well-informed tour operators before finalizing any travel plans.
*This information is current as of January 14, 2003

Compiled by Misty Blakesley, Amy Marr, Dimity McDowell, Sam Moulton, Tim Neville, Katie Showalter, and Ted Stedman

Cautionary Trails, PT II

RISK LEVEL:
1 GENERALLY SAFE
2 SIGNIFICANTLY RISKY
3 EXTREMELY RISKY


JORDAN
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

Jordan is considered the least dangerous Middle Eastern country; still, threats of random violence (witness the October 2002 killing of an American Embassy employee) remain high.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

World-renowned sport and trad climbing on the 1,500-foot sandstone walls in Wadi Rum, and camel-trekking with the Bedouin in the country’s southern desertscape
RISK: 1



LEBANON
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

Home to the terrorist group Hezbollah, Lebanon has a history of anti-U.S. violence, and there have been recent protests, sometimes violent, in major cities.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Skiing the 8,000-foot-plus peaks and six resorts in the Anti-Lebanon mountain range, then heading to the coast to swim in the Mediterranean
RISK: 2



LIBERIA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

Though a democratic government took power in 1997, ending an eight-year civil war, this developing West African nation is plagued by clashes between government forces and dissidents.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Safaris to Sapo National Park, Liberia’s only national park and one of the last rainforest refuges for bongo antelopes and forest elephants
RISK: 2



LIBYA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

Seventeen years under U.S. sanctions, convictions in the 1988 Lockerbie bombing, and rising crime make travel to Libya a tricky proposition.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Safaris to the Ubari Sand Sea, land of shifting, 300-foot dunes and salt lakes
RISK: 2



MACEDONIA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

A geopolitical hot spot, this mountainous Balkan country is still smoldering with ethnic tension, most recently between Albanian rebels and Macedonian forces.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Spelunking among the dripstone formations and stalagmites in the caves around 3,000-foot-plus Matka Canyon
RISK: 1



NIGERIA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

Though nearly 16 years of military rule ended in 1999, this oil-rich West African country suffers from rampant street crime, ongoing religious and ethnic conflicts, and kidnappings.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Trekking through rolling grasslands and exploring the volcanic 3,500-foot Mandara Mountains along the border with Cameroon
RISK: 2



PAKISTAN
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

In 2002, members of the Taliban, who had crossed the vertiginous Hindu Kush from Afghanistan, are believed to have instigated a rash of anti-Western terrorism in Islamabad and Karachi.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Completing the classic three-week trek to the base camp of pyramidal K2 in northern Pakistan, leaving from Askole and crossing the Baltoro Glacier
RISK: 2



TAJIKISTAN
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

A mountainous and unstable “stan” in the heart of Central Asia, Tajikistan is thought to be home to the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU) terrorist group.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Climbing untouched glaciers and rock faces in the Pamir Mountains, where first ascents of 17,000-foot-plus summits abound
RISK: 2



SOMALIA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

Ever since dictator Siad Barre was ousted in 1991, anarchy has ruled this drought-prone East African nation. Warring factions are still fighting for control of the the capital, Mogadishu.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Deep-sea tuna fishing in the waters off Somalia’s 1,876-mile coastline, the longest in Africa
RISK: 3



SUDAN
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

Nearly 40 years of civil war, coupled with famine, have made Sudan extremely unstable, especially in the oil-producing Upper Nile region. Americans have been assaulted and taken hostage.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Scuba diving in the Red Sea to famous shipwrecks and coral atolls, first explored by Jacques Cousteau in the sixties
RISK: 3



VENEZUELA
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

Opposition to President Hugo Chávez and a nationwide strike have destabilized this tropical country, causing acute oil shortages and triggering violent protests in Caracas.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Trekking through humid jungles and the vast savannas of the Guiana Highlands to 3,212-foot Angel Falls, the highest waterfall in the world
RISK: 2



YEMEN
WHAT’S THE TROUBLE

This country on the tip of the Arabian Peninsula has been plagued by anti-American sentiment since long before the 2000 attack on the USS Cole.
WHAT YOU’RE MISSING

Exploring the coral beaches of Socotra, the largest Arabian island, which abounds with flora, including frankincense, myrrh, and the dragon’s blood tree
RISK: 3



Be aware that the State Department also posts advisories about unstable regions in many other countries, like Kyrgyzstan and Nepal. Carefully check the Web site’s postings and consult with well-informed tour operators before finalizing any travel plans.

*This information is current as of January 14, 2003



Compiled by Misty Blakesley, Amy Marr, Dimity McDowell, Sam Moulton, Tim Neville, Katie Showalter, and Ted Stedman

The post Nomads Have More Fun appeared first on ���ϳԹ��� Online.