I ride around the lake on the track rolling up and down hills through the hot steamy air, blue water flashing through the trees, refreshed by periodic swims at places where the shore is easily accessible.

Cycling around the lake makes for a relaxing morning ride with frequent stops for a quick swim.

The afternoon sees me arrive at El Remate, a sleepy lakeside village. The place is very quiet but it clearly sees its share of tourists in busier times.

Got to watch out for those eco-tourists. The sign reads: "Slow! Eco-tourist zone."

More eco-tourists in need of care: this 'ecological inn' caters specifically to lost gringos.

I settle into the garden of the Hotel Casa Roja, a quiet lakeside hostel, for a day or so of swimming and relaxing while I research the next leg of my journey.

I am intending to head back to the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico to try to find a way to hop across to Cuba. The reason that I have crossed the border into Guatemala first is that my 180 days in Mexico was almost up and, as I would prefer to go to Cuba by boat – an extremely unlikely proposition, it is probably going to take some time to organise.

On my map there are a couple of fine lines north of the paved road to Tikal traversing protected wilderness areas in the north of Peten heading into Belize and Mexico and this is the route I want to take but I need more information. For one thing, the wet season has started and the condition of the roads is questionable and, additionally, Peten is, apparently, a lawless place and the area is very remote.

The advice I receive on the wisdom of my plan is varied. It ranges from “You’ll be raped and murdered!” to “You can’t possibly do it without a guide! You’ll get lost.” to “It’s much too difficult. The roads are too bad.” to “It will be a great adventure. Take care and have fun!”

I guess you know which piece of advice that I am going to heed.

An elegant cow gracing the entrance to a butcher shop in Creel...

... along with her friend, the pig.

However, this billboard which recurs throughout Chihuahua on the highways makes one pause, momentarily, for thought. The innocuous looking Martha and her gang of kidnappers are clearly a dastardly crew. Comfortingly, most of them seem to already behind bars but Martha – La Jefa – remains at large.

Martha and her dastardly band of kidnappers.

9AM BIBLE STUDY
10.15 HEAVEN
POTLUCK AFTER

Potluck after... ummm,... what exactly is going on here...?

The desert, as always contains surprises.

My first thought was that this sign had to be a joke but, apparently, it is not. An endangered species of desert tortoise is a resident of the Mojave Desert.

I ride to Kelso where, disappointingly, there is absolutely no food of any kind to be had – I’d fled Baker so quickly I neglected to restock my food pannier, which is on the bare side. One of the rangers at the information office gives me a couple of granola bars along with maps of the area and another man also takes pity on me and gives me a slice of cold pizza and an apple. Slightly fortified I go to strike out into the desert again only to discover that I have lost one of my four litre water bags somewhere en route.

Eventually, a little flustered, I set off to a campsite 35 miles away climbing high enough to enter Joshua tree forest again.

I love these trees!

Amazing!

This roadside plant caught my attention, too. Gold stars on a silver bush - beautiful.

I get caught out after dark before I reach my destination. This time there is no moon to help me and I discover that I’ve have also lost my brand new head-lamp. I ride five miles in utter darkness along a corrugated sandy track. As I skid and slide into unseen pits of deep gravel, I curse and swear. Five miles can seem a very long way. At one point I have the urge to cry and I even stop, not far from the unseen campground, to call for help but there is nobody there. I finally stumble my way into the pitch black campground and put up my tent automatically in the dark and then cook up a meal by the light of a cigarette lighter.

Another desert sunset. A mile or so down the road, I discover that my new head lamp is missing, possibly it fell unnoticed out of my handle-bar bag during this sunset photo stop.

In the morning, I return to the turn-off to the campsite where I stopped at sunset to take photos and I hope to find the missing head-lamp. As I am riding, my frayed gear cable gives way. I push on to the junction where I am disappointed by the absence of my light and address myself to the gear cable dilemma. I unpack my tools and spares by the side of the road.

Two cars pass without a glance as I work on my bike but a group of motor-cyclists stop. They offer me beer and cold pizza and hold my bike while I make adjustments. One of the men offers to ride all the way back to the main road to look for my head-lamp. He returns after an unsuccessful search but gives me small Mag light he has in his bag as a substitute.

These guys were gallant enough to stop to offer help when they saw me working on my bike. Two cars had already passed without a glance; I think that's very bad manners out in the desert.

With my bike back in order I continue through the desert. The Mojave Desert has much more diverse vegetation than Death Valley. As the elevation drops somewhat I discover more species of cactii exist than I ever could have imagined. I can camp where-ever I please here but pushing my bike off the road requires some care as I discovered to my cost after an incident which required me to get out my tool kit to find my needle-nosed pliers to extract two thorns deeply embedded in my foot following a moment of careless contact.

Don't mess with these plants - those spines are savage.

More spikiness...

... and yet more.

But these are my favourites.

Monumental!

I am fascinated by the internal structure of these plants.