Waking up to an early morning
filled with oats and chai tea, we were ready to seize the day. Cruising
to the nearest town on the coast called Jaco, we stopped in a coffee
shop to indulge in some WiFi and feel like less than super dirty
travelers in desperate need of laundry. Jon went off to find a bike shop
to see if he could find a way to remove a grinding sound, and by the
time he was back we were all in a similar mood. Entranced by the calm
beach life, word of a 3 day mountain bike race leaving in the morning,
and the possibility of an air conditioned room, we decided to stay for
the night. Fully relaxed, we kept VH1 playing old songs in the
background all night, thoroughly entertained by the strangeness of early
music videos.
The next morning
we set out, hoping to find the start of the mountain bike race but
ended up turning around after realizing it was about 10 kilometers in
the wrong direction down a dirt road. Almost immediately when we were
back on pavement, I heard a loud hiss and felt air hit my leg on every
rotation. I changed out my rear tube, but about 10 miles further down
the road I had an identical sound and feeling. What had happened was
nearly 2000 miles of weighted riding had destroyed my tread. Nearly bald
all the way around, I could see daylight in two gaping holes that
allowed rocks to pop my tube without providing any layer of protection.
It was 13 kilometers to the next town, so I crossed a few layers of duct
tape, avoided all gravel like the plague, and was thrilled to finally
find a bike shop. Even though my new tread is so grooved it hums on the
pavement, at least I don't have to be intimidated by tiny rocks anymore.
That
night, we ended up asking a small church if we could camp on their
property. They immediately said yes with so much enthusiasm and showed
us a sink we could use for cooking and dishes. The area was wonderful,
but the mosquitos were horrid. By far the worst night of the trip so
far. Although we were under a roof, we ended up setting our tents up on
the concrete to act as a mosquito net and proceeded to sweat all night.
It's a funny thing when you go to bed fully hydrated, only wear your
boxers (even without a sleeping bag) and wake up a little damp and
dehydrated from sweating all night.
Keeping
with our camping trend we put in a full day of riding and learned how
Costa Rica responds to complaints about heat. In the early afternoon, it
started to rain which quickly turned into an all out downpour. Soaked
all the way through, we found a field to camp in and first set up a dry
station by stringing tarps and a rain-fly off of a horse feeding trough.
Content with our creation, we played a few rounds of cards, cooked
dinner, and were prepared to wait out the rain. However, darkness came
first and we had record setting tent setup in the rain.
It's
less fun starting the day damp, but we had something up our sleeve to
keep us going. One of Kai's old housemates from Luther is teaching
English in Costa Rica, so we decided to go pay him a visit. It's
probably a good thing we had such an exciting destination that day
because it may have been our toughest day of riding yet. As our 5th
straight day without a full day off, the legs were already a little
tired and the dampness from the night before seemed to soak up some
energy. Gritting through, we started a few mile climb up to a ridgeline
with absolutely spectacular valley views. We started the day early
enough to watch the sun come over the eastern hillside and see the eye
level clouds slowly melt away under the rising heat. All day, our
elevation hardly changed by the map. However, it was spent almost
entirely climbing. Every time we would
climb (or walk) an exceedingly steep hill, we would fly down the back
side simply to repeat the process. This continued for over 30 miles,
going about 4 mph up a hill and 30 mph down. It's a bit discouraging to
look at your bike computer and see the little arrow say you're traveling
above the daily average when the mph is still a single digit, but we
stuck it out and eventually pulled up to a house with a familiar face.
Fully
exhausted, our host Jared knew exactly how end the day. He greeted us
with a beer and shortly after his host mom had a plate of flavored rice
and beans waiting for us. Apparently, bringing in a few gringos to a
rural mountain village is a big deal because while we ate, we noticed
the house slowly filling with more and more relatives hoping to catch a
glimpse and we let them all learn our terrible Spanish abilities.
I
can't honestly say we were great company for Jared, but he was exactly
what we needed. Tired from all the riding, we were thrilled to have our
lives revolve around watching the Star Wars marathon on tv, chatting
idly, drinking high quality coffee, and awaiting our next meal from his
host mom. It was stress free, cozy, relaxing, and honestly perfect.
After seeing his school and apologizing for being boring company, we
were refreshed enough to push on towards the Panama border.
Crossing
into our 6th country (if you count the bus through El Salvador and
Honduras) you might assume we have a decent feel for the proper process
by now. However, nothing could prepare us for the most cardiovascular
friendly border crossing imaginable. When we first arrived, we saw the
"migration" sign and went up to the window. However, the man there said
we needed to go to the next building first to pay the country exit fee.
Not discouraged, we walked next door just to get directed to another
building further down the way. This building ended up being more of a
bank, and sent us back the way we'd come but to a different official
building. Inside, we realized we'd found the Panama migration, but we
couldn't do anything with them until we had our Costa Rica exit stamp.
Asking many more strangers and with numerous directions, we found a
small hardware store with a homemade sign that said we could buy our
country exit fee there.
Not
sure if we had been ripped off or not, we carried our receipt back to
the first building and got our stamp. Happy to be making progress, we
went to the Panama migration who demanded a copy of our passport and
said we had to prove we had $500 or present a credit card. None of us
carry that kind of cash or had an ATM receipt showing our bank balance.
We also didn't have wifi so online banking wasn't an option. After a bit
of debate, we ended up showing them the confirmation email of our plane
ticket to prove we had plans to leave their country. Apparently that
was good enough so we got our stamp and quickly got as far away from
that place as possible before we were sent to any more buildings.
The
initial ride in Panama was similar to our last full day of riding in
Costa Rica-lots of gradual ups and quick downs. However, where Costa
Rica seemed to be willing to slash and burn a lot of their valleys for
coffee farms, Panama held a lot more natural forest and grazing fields.
Once again, incredibly tiring but beautiful, we chugged along towards
the first major town called Volcan. All three of us quickly fell in love
with the houses on the outside of town that looked like something out
of a ferry tale. Single storied but simple, clean, and flowers placed in
the perfect locations made them seem the coziest little cottages you
could hope for.
Spending the
night after a long ride, we prepared ourselves for another day. It turns
out all of our hard work finally paid off. Coming out of the mountains,
I really only pedaled the next 20 miles for something to do, averaging
21 mph on the morning. The rest of the ride to David wasn't much harder,
and we found ourselves in town with plenty of time left in the day.
Grabbing a hostal that happened to have the perk of unlimited coffee, we
set out to explore the town. We ended up escaping our daily lives that
night by going to the new James Bond movie. For only $3.25, we got a
cozy seat, air conditioning, and only had the movie break once for 5
minutes of a dark intermission.
As a little bonus 2 month gift, I´d like to share Jon and Kai´s wake up/mood progression. It isn´t identical everyday, but surprisingly often it´s something like this:
- Wake Up Call - Jon jumps awake (literally) when you say his name and Kai has a gradual start
- First Movement - Generally in the direction of food or coffee
- All Packed Up/Squirrly - A series of weird jokes and voices followed by much laughter
- Light Conversation - Usually the first couple miles as we ride away
- Less Talk - Biking gets a bit harder, we take our first break, and the rest of breakfast is finished
- Gradual Push Towards Silence - It´s an inverse relationship of silence and hangry
- Talking Doesn´t Matter - At least as much as food
- Instant Happy - Post food, continued conversations and sometimes deep thoughts
- Repeat 6
- Tired - Content with the day, ready to relax, que deeper thoughts
-Ben
Good to hear things are going well!
ReplyDeleteJust with that last passage, I'm curious: Do you guys set an alarm every day to get up? Or how about paying attention to time in general? Or is it just sunrise to sunset, eat when you're hungry, sleep when you're tired?
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DeleteEspecially in Central America, it´s way too hot to bike from basically 11 to 3 unless there are clouds, so we pretty much live on a sun schedule here. We definitely set an alarm to get up everday (the leader of the day is in charge of getting up first and starting breakfast) and meals are pretty standard timing, but we´re often in bed before 8 or 9 at the latest to make sure we have an early start at dawn.
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