by Richard Leonardi

I was riding shotgun in a burgundy 1984 Lada, gripping the Russian car’s rattling door with my right hand and a sweaty black vinyl seat with my left. We approached an intersection with its signal changing to red. Traffic around us came to a grinding halt. Not to be deterred, the taxi driver wrestled the old Lada into the vacant left turn lane, floored the pedal and swerved hard right, crashing through the red light at full speed. I tightened my grip on the door and seat and held my breath as we knifed through cross traffic. For the driver it was just another day at the office. He grumbled something about the increase in city traffic; his thick left arm dangling out of the Lada’s window and the other busy sawing away at its big black steering wheel. He spied me out of the corner of his eye and a small grin of satisfaction crept across his mouth.

by Kat Young
The silver tips of corn stalks rustled as we walked silently past. The full moon above cast a soft glow, illuminating the landscape with a million shades of grays, blues and blacks. As we moved through the somehow sacred terrain, our large group of 20 made hardly a sound. It must have been the moon that lent this pious air to the night, or perhaps it was the several active volcanoes looming in the distance. Whatever it was, the feeling of pilgrimage was heavy as we began to ascend our destination: Vulcan Telica.

I came to be in this situation while visiting Leon, a historic city in the north west of Nicaragua. I was actively doing close to nothing as I struggled to become accustomed to the overpowering heat. I sat one day in a restaurant drinking a cold juice, pondering my sloth-like behavior, when I saw a sign nearby advertising a “Full Moon Hike” to the top of Volcan Telica. I have had the fortune of seeing many volcanoes on my travels so that was not the appeal; it was the full moon that intrigued me. Also, a fellow traveler in the restaurant mentioned to me that the company offering the hike was non-profit and all the proceeds went to help local street kids. This peeked my philanthropist spirit, so I went to the office of Quetzal Trekkers to inquire further. They promised a unique experience as only in the darkness of night and pre-dawn is one able t see the deep red glow of lava within the crater. A drop of sweat rolled down my back as I stood listening in the heat. They added that this hike was very popular because it is significantly cooler and more pleasant to hike in the night. I was sold.

by Alex Edgerton
It is hard to imagine how the sight of two dozen foreigners setting off to climb an active volcano in the middle of the night must look to the residents of San Jacinto, but this is the spectacle that greets the inhabitants of this small town near León once a month.

San Jacinto is the starting point for the monthly full moon hike to the summit of Telica volcano run by Quetzaltrekkers, a volunteer organization based in León that raises funds to improve the lives of impoverished children.

The organization, which started out helping street children in Quetzaltenango in Guatemala, has just celebrated its second anniversary in Nicaragua, and in this short time has helped change the way many people view the future of tourism in the country.