The lodge owner at Gumbo Limbo saw us coming; how could he miss us? Eight exhausted people, covered head to foot with mud, in two Land Rover Defenders that were now mud brown adorned with jungle vegetation. That we looked like a military convoy had crossed our minds. As we pulled up to the bar at the lodge two locals made a scampering b-line for their puck-up and raced down the driveway. Going for the police perhaps? That’s the last thing we needed, as it was well past happy hour.

The morning had begun deep in the Chiquibul rain forest in Southern Belize on the fabled Camp Six road. It was day two of our traverse and we’d already turned back. By beginning of day two, I’m being very clear; Nick managed to navigate the lead truck out of our campsite and all of three meters down the track before the Pro-Comp tires lost traction and forward progress halted. Out came the winch line.