We planned for a stop off at Jaguar Paw Jungle Lodge on our way to Table Rock to do a little zip lining. The lodge is located just east of Belmopan making it a nice stopping point to break up the trip a little prior to a second stop in Belmopan for lunch. As we cruised on down the Western Highway, Liz and I noticed an old, faded billboard advertising Jaguar Paw. No arrows, or instructions “turn here” were printed on the sign, but 1000 feet later, we’d instinctively stopped and prepared for a U-turn. We pulled into some farmers driveway and turned around. As we approached the sign, we saw no further indicators that this was actually the turn off for Jaguar Paw. But some guys sitting under the sign approached. We rolled down the window and ask them but were greeted with a faded tour guide’s license and a solicitation. “Yes, this is road to Jaguar Paw, but we are licensed tour guides. We take you for zip lining, cave tubing.”
“No thanks,” we said. “We’ve got reservations at Jaguar Paw.”
We continued down this road south for about 2000 feet before we hit potholes. Hundreds of them. Massive potholes. Boston has big potholes. Big like, your tire will fall in them and you feel a good bump. Belize has small potholes. Small, like your tire will fall in them and you feel a good bump. They have big potholes, too. Big potholes like your car will fall in them and you will become a bump.
We drove through what looked like an exploded mine field for some time, crippling the hooptie and contemplating our next move should one of the axles fall off. Some of the holes were manageable. We could straddle them or pass them on the left or the right. Others were less easily avoided. Some were, in fact, so massive, there was actually less road than pothole.
After a long while, we passed a similar adventure post full of tour busses and a few signs indicating zip lining and cave tubing. Liz wondered if that was it, but we pressed on. A long while later, we started to wonder if this was actually the right road. Maybe it was just a billboard. Again, no arrows. No “turn here.” Nothing.
Finally saw a sign. A small, almost inconsequential sign sat on the side of the road indicating this was still the way. We breathed a sigh of relief and pressed on.
Jaguar park is located inside a protected nature reserve. We entered the park and told the ranger our intent. He pointed us on and waved us a goodbye. We entered the park and were immediately hit up by yet another tour guide who tried to sell us on cave tubing. “No thanks,” we said and drove on.

We came to the steepest hill I’ve ever tried to ascend in a car. The trail was about 15 feet wide with two two-foot wide strips of broken concrete running up the middle. A pleasant, one lane “road” led us up a hopelessly steep hill where any other vehicles would surely smoke us before we ever even saw them. The strips of concrete, while reliable, were narrow and skirted by deep, rocky troughs that we were sure to avoid. As we ascended the hill, I had only one thing to say:
“Oooooh…..myyyyy…..God.”
The car made it, barely, and we descended the other side.
We parked and walked into what is easily the hokiest (no offense Virginia Tech) “jungle lodge” I could imagine and signed in. The cost was $45US per person. For $52 we could have lunch, too. It was about lunch time and we hadn’t eaten much so we decided to grab lunch, too. We sat down at a nice table in a nice dining room, decorated in tourist cheese and began to set up the equipment.
Lunch came out. It was delicious; chicken, rice and coleslaw. A pretty common dish, as it turns out in Belize. I loved, it, Liz ate it.
Then the power went out.
For about five minutes, we were limited to ambient light from outside as the staff ran frantic trying to restore power. Eventually, it came back on, we left our gear at the front desk and headed out to the zip line tour.