OVER THE WATERFALLS NEAR EL TUNCO

Kip screams his way down an unnamed waterfall near Tamanique, El Salvador, as Pedro looks on.

Traveling first class as usual, we dropped 50 cents each for a local bus that struggled 20km along a winding, hilly road to the tiny town of Tamanique. A surfer we had met earlier in El Tunco told us there was a series of waterfalls not faraway that we should check out, so off we went.

As soon as we stepped off the bus, a friendly 30-something guy approached us. "To the waterfalls?" he asked us in Spanish.

We were the only two gringos for miles, and there was little question why we'd come. Our inquisitor's name was Pedro, and it just so happened he owned the waterfall, or so he said (he also said he used to service pools in southern Maryland, but that's a whole other story). Off we went again.

After a 45-minute hike down a trail better suited for mountain goats than flip-flop-clad gringos, Pedro took off his shirt and went flying over a rocky ledge into a pool surrounded by sheer rock walls.

"Come on in, it's cold and deep!" he assured us from below.

So we did.

The first jump of about 10 feet felt refreshing. The next one, at 15 feet, got the blood going. The last one, well...Kip screamed almost as loud and little-girl-like as he did when he was deep water soloing in Thailand.

A big thanks to Pedro for taking us to his waterfalls, which he ensures anyone reading, are way more fun than any pool in Maryland.