Bike trip Day 4

(the lead crew arrives in Cahuita-Allegra, Eric, Natalia, Katherine, me, Beth)

Different people see getting up early differently. A lot of people think it’s a great thing to do, because then you can go out and take advantage of the day, the sunshine, and all that. I think those people have a pretty good argument. Yet, I've always been in the other crowd, the one that says there's no reason to upset a perfectly good sleep just because the sun's up. Now, if there's lots to do, I'm down with getting up early. On day 4 of the bike trip there was anything but lots to do: an easy, flat, short ride along the coast down to Cahuita. Cahuita is a delightful beach town, with a gorgeous forest (a national park) that comes right down to the beach. I had been lucky to have had been to Cahuita twice before this trip. Not everyone else was in the same boat. So, I wasn't exactly thrilled to be eating breakfast on the curb (kerb for the crazy Brits) outside our hotel in the dark. The ride was as easy as promised and we rolled into Cahuita early enough to grab breakfast before most of the beach bum tourists had even gotten out of bed. 

(the TEFL crew-José (assistant boss) and Allegra (regional advisor) and us volunteers)

Most of the group headed to the beach and walked through the park, taking advantage of a day to rest the muscles and enjoy the beautiful Caribbean Sea. Instead, I took a nap, did some reading, took a walk around town, caught up on some correspondence at an Internet cafe, and  passed the remainder of the day sitting on the porch. We had a most enjoyable group dinner at a your typical Cahuita restaurant-fish tanks, tiki torches, and sand on the floor. Everyone in the group was able to enjoy rice and beans, and I had my Limón favorite-chicken in Caribbean sauce. With another short day the next day-and the border-I allowed myself a few Pilsen's with dinner. Our day 4 trip, seen on the map below, would be the shortest of the trip at just 44 kilometers, but, the day really served as a rest day, and in that sense, was quite a success. 

Bike Trip Day 3

(José, one of our staff leaders and my boss)

We started the third day with two additions to the group, Katherine and Nicole B. who had ridden the bus up to Katherine’s the night before. We were still retracing the trip I had made up to Upala, so the ride was very familiar to me. Beth, Eric, Katherine, Alonso (the IT manager for the Peace Corps office) and I started out in the first group on a gorgeous, I mean gorgeous, morning in the hills around Venecia and San Miguel. It’s a very pretty area, with cattle pastures and rainforest dotting the various hillsides. Soon after Alonso, Eric and I headed out ahead. Alonso had been driving the first two days, and is quite the cyclist, so he was fresh and ready to push it through the hills. Which he did. It was impressive watching someone that really knows how to ride move up and down the hills, maximizing all the energy the downhills provided.

(view of Rio Sucio coming down from Central Range, Braulio Carrillo Nat'l Park)

As we were riding on the long flat part of the day, we ran into a friend of José’s (well, we were told he’d be there) who was doing some biking in the area. Eric and Alonso pushed ahead and I rode with José’s friend, who was nice and easy to chat with for the remainder of the day. We rode through my old site and luckily, do to the early start and quick pace, only had to endure about an hour of the bright Sarapiqui sun as we rode without any shade along Highway 4, heading south. By passing my site, I finished retracing my trek up, but I had also already ridden on most of this section as well. We arrived at the Highway 4/Highway 32 intersection well before lunch and sat for over an hour in the shade, eating watermelon, bananas, and mandarin oranges we had purchased from the fruit vendors. We were waiting there as some executive decisions were being finalized.

In the end a very sad, but probably smart decision was made: we wouldn’t ride the portion of the ride from this intersection to Limón, along Highway 32. This section of highway is super busy, as it connects the San José metro area (biggest city in the country-2.5 million people) with Moín-the country’s most important port (there are only two big ports-and Moín handles more than half of Costa Rica’s trade). Not only is it super busy, but it is also the most dangerous bit of highway in Costa Rica (more crashes than any other highway almost every year). It was sad, in that our border to border ride was now not exactly border to border, but considering how busy the highway is and that we were a large group of mixed-experience riders, a smart one.

So, after sitting and waiting for the jeeps (and the decision), I helped Alonso get all the bikes on top of the two support jeeps, and then grabbed a casado at a soda (a typical Costa Rican meal at a typical Costa Rican restaurant/café), changed out of bike shorts, and we all loaded the bus to Limón. The bus was coming from San José, and just stopped at the intersection bus stop/truck stop, so it was, of course, full, so we all had to stand for the two hour ride. Normally not a big problem, but with sore, sore, sore legs, it would’ve been nice to sit. Upon arriving in Limón and seeing a Pizza Hut sign, I knew where I was going to dinner. Eric, Katherine, and Beth were kind enough to join me and we thoroughly enjoyed the salad bar and pizza. Having already been to Limón a number of times, I wasn’t worried about missing the chance to have some delicious Caribbean food. Some deep dish supreme was what I was looking for! Our trip from Venecia to ‘El Cruce de Sarapiquí’ covered 73 kilometers on day three, you can see the route above. 

Bike Trip Day 2

(along the way)

Our second day was considerably shorter than the first, but I think that it was by far the most difficult day of the trip. As I mentioned, hills make all the difference when riding bikes, and day two was almost all hills. We rode from Monterrey along highway 4 until we reached ‘Muelle San Carlos’ and then those of us in the lead group headed up the road for five kilometers, until we arrived in Platanar, the community of Allan W. a community economic development volunteer in Tico 21. This ride wasn’t too bad, plenty of hills, but nothing too rough. We were supposed to give a presentation there about the trip as well as exercise and good nutrition. So, we got the tables and benches set up and as we did so were met with a nice surprise, Patty (who I had stayed with) and Kristi, another volunteer nearby, showed up with a bunch of fruit for us to gorge on while we waited. And wait we did, but no one showed up for the presentation (a common result for such presentations, I’m told), so we finished up our snack, filled up our water bottles and headed back down the road to where we’d come from, joined by Allan.

(the lead group, PCV friends, Allan, and some friends from his community)

It was during this part of the ride that things got tough. We were headed to Venecia, the site of Katherine K., another TEFL volunteer (and the one I traveled around Panama with). Her site is situated in the beautiful highlands on the eastern side of the Central Range. This means that it’s nice and high, and there was plenty of uphill riding from the low plains of Platanar. It was a good, solid day of riding, I rode most of the day with Eric, Beth, and Allegra (a staff member). We took plenty of short breaks-which is the way I like to ride, so I was happy. All the group reunited in a restaurant parking lot at the edge of Aguas Zarcas, a very nice town with gorgeous views—and at the top of one killer hill. Eric was a beast and charged all the way up it without stopping. I stopped once and was so exhausted I didn’t realize I was blocking the sidewalk from a cute girl until after standing there for five seconds staring at me she asked if I could move. Or, maybe I was just mesmerized by her attractiveness. Either way, I mounted up and made it to the top of the hill. As we looked back and saw one of the support vehicles going the wrong way, we called to see what was up. The rest of the group had decided to get lunch, but we were feeling good, and having just rested, wanted to keep going. 

(after a tough day's ride)

So the two of us rolled through the beautiful hills and grunted as we ascended towards Venecia. I jumped off my bike, totally wiped out, at the edge of town-Eric soon followed. We made our way to Katherine’s house, rested a bit, went out and had the biggest casado I have yet to see in Costa Rica (we both easily licked our plates clean) and then headed back to meet the rest of the group. We had a delightful afternoon hanging out, washing clothes, washing bikes, getting more snacks for the days to come, and enjoying a delightful teriyaki chicken noodle dinner that Katherine made for the whole group. The staff stayed in the hotel, but the rest of us piled onto borrowed mattresses that covered all of Katherine’s little house. In the end, we rode 69 K on day two, and the route can be seen below. 

 

Bike Trip-Day 1

(the Day 1 crew-without me or Alonso)

Despite not having too far to ride, as we were a large group and didn’t exactly know how everything was going to work out, it was decided that we’d start out nice and early to give ourselves plenty of time for mishaps. This ended up being a very good decision. Almost all of the trouble and complications that would occur (and did occur) during the trip can be summed up by one factor: riding on flat ground isn’t the same as riding in the hills. When stated like this, it seems ridiculously obvious, but when looking at a map (which is flat) and counting out kilometers and planning a bike trip, it isn’t. Luckily, I had learned this on my ‘warm-up’ ride to Upala. Not only does riding on hills require different muscles, it requires more skills (rolling down hills under control yet taking advantage of the speed gained), it requires much better awareness of when to shift gears, and importantly, a bike with the appropriate gears for going up hills. I say this at the beginning of these few blogs about the border to border ride, just so you can have in mind the number of requirements to ride through hills successfully, and that not possessing one or two of these requirements means for a long, slow, and unpleasant ride. 

Up before dawn, breakfast (oatmeal and coffee) was prepared, eaten, and cleaned up, bags were packed, loaded, and bikes were mounted with only fifteen or twenty minutes of daylight wasted. In order to keep it real, we rode up a gnarly dirt road eight kilometers to the border. I may have commented about these types of roads before on the blog. In Costa Rican Spanish they’re called ‘lastre’ and it’s decidedly not gravel, but rather a gravel/dirt/field stone mix-which means, that it’s ideal for horses or walking, but not at all fun for bikes-if you’re not bouncing off a fieldstone, your splashing through a pothole or powering through some mud. But, we took it slow and made it to the border. 

The border was all sorts of fun. I have been lucky enough to visit a number of land borders in my life, and I especially enjoy their diversity. As this road isn’t a border crossing used by anyone but the locals, it was by far the least built up border crossing I’ve ever seen. It featured a stone with Nicaragua/Costa Rica carved on it, a withering Nicaraguan flag, and a Nicaraguan soldier/policeman with a gun across his chest, who chatted up Eric S. A few young kids were riding horses across the border, usually with small packages or papers-doing errands for some of the farmers and property owners that have business in both countries. After group pictures, the border to border bike ride started in earnest. 

(border marker)

(border flag)

As the morning progressed, we made our way back through Upala and traveled southeast on Highway 4. As there were two Peace Corps trucks accompanying us, we split into two groups-one with a faster and one a slower pace. I rode in the first group, and everything went quite smoothly—at least for us. The second group either didn’t read the signs, or didn’t know which way we were headed, and José (one of my bosses), who was riding between the two groups to be of assistance (he and Alonso-another staff member-had the best bike repair knowledge) had to do some extra riding down the wrong turn and get some of that group turned around. Most of the ride was pleasant and flat, but as we started to approach Monterrey, where we’d be spending the night, it got much, much hillier. Eric S. and I were looking to keep up a good pace, so we rode out ahead of the two groups and rolled into Monterrey around lunch time. Hungry and thirsty, we stopped at the same little café where I had eaten a delightful breakfast just two days before. After filling up our water bottles and consuming a Snickers bar in mere seconds, we noticed a man working on his car in his front lawn. And that the car had Pennsylvania plates. We approached him, and he was happy to chat us up, talk about his son that had lived in Pennsylvania for many years, and let us use his hose to wash off our bikes.

The rest of the group rolled in throughout the afternoon, along with the trucks, which was fortunate, as Eric and I had just been hanging out in the cabin’s towels after showering. We had a nice dinner of arroz con pollo (chicken fried rice-a Costa Rican staple), did some shopping at the local stores for snacks for the next day's ride. Just before we fell asleep, Beth D. arrived, coming on the last bus, which she had barely made after just getting back to her site that day, getting everything packed and ready, and then lugging her bike on the various buses she had to take to arrive. With the 16 K trip to and from the border, day one amounted to 93 kilometers, and you can see our route on the picture below (sans the little trip up to the border).

Bike trip day -1

After sleeping in to hopefully recharge my batteries for the actual bike trip, we took a walk around Upala, I enjoyed a Diet Coke and a pair of empanadas (tied with Pilsen and chorizo as my favorite combination here in Costa Rica), Julia made some bomb quesadillas for lunch, and we headed out to a neighborhood on the edge of town for the charla that would kick off the bike trip. A charla is a one time presentation, discussion, or lesson about an important topic, and they are a fairly common method used in Costa Rica to disseminate information, especially by government institutions traveling to small communities, and by Peace Corps Volunteers. The charla went well, like most things in Costa Rica, we had to wait half an hour for everyone to show up, but a good discussion ensued. 

(me with Julia^2, kicking off the trip)

After this we got our things together and headed to Marissa’s host family’s house on the other side of town. Marissa and a different Julia met up with us there. (The two women named Julia in my group were placed about thirty minutes from each other, so are generally referred to as Julia^2. The idea had been for everyone that was participating in the trip to travel up to Upala this day, and arrive in the afternoon and then make the quick ride up to San José de Upala, another volunteer’s site, where we’d be spending the night. Well, as we dropped our bags off at Marissa’s, and some phone calls were made, it became clear that I was the only out of town volunteer that had taken this plan seriously. Some volunteers, as well as the staff that were going to accompany us on the trip and carry our gear and food in the trucks, were on their way. But, the sun was also on its way down. So, Julia^2 and I made the nice little ride to San José de Upala. It was a delightfully pleasant ride, we took an easy pace and finished the 16 K just as the sun set. We met up with Eric S., the volunteer in that community, he got us set up at the cabins where we were staying the night, and soon enough the rest of the crew rolled in. For me, the most exciting thing was seeing that in the trucks was a quite extensive supply of Gatorade and snacks-graciously provided by our Country Director, Steve. After a delightful dinner and the last Pilsen for a few days, we all headed to bed early, as we were to start bright and early the next day.

Bike trip Day -2

Luckily, Patty isn’t some young punk that sleeps in like most of my cohort, so she was rocking and rolling when I headed into the kitchen a bit after six. As it was summer and the teenage kids were sleeping in, her host mom had apologized and warned me that breakfast wouldn’t be served until nine or so, so I grabbed some snacks and was on my way. I had everything in my backpack in plastic bags, which was fortunate, because rain was the order of the day. I didn’t really care about getting wet, but was rather annoyed at having to brake down most of the hills, out of concern for my safety. After rolling down the hills and through some sugar cane fields, I turned the corner and started seeing some ominous signs: Volcano Arenal was up ahead, which meant only one thing: hills. And hills were exactly what I got. Needless to say, I was taking frequent breaks and regrettably jumping off my bike to walk up the most difficult parts. I generally think I was on odd site to see. In Costa Rica there seem to be two types of bikers: those with jerseys, biking shorts, $1,000 bikes and then those that ride cheap, seventh-hand bikes to work and school. There are plenty of the first type of bikers, as Costa Rica, being full of mountains, is a great place to mountain bike. There might be a million of the second type. Yet, I was somewhere in the middle: athletic clothes but not biking specific, a backpack-but obviously not going to school or work, and a bike somewhere in the middle too. 

(some of what I was looking at)

I had continually been texting Julia R., a TEFL coworker from France/Michigan, who was providing me lodging for the night, each time delaying my arrival time at her house. Early in the day I began realizing that this wouldn't be such a warm up but rather quite an undertaking that would destroy my untrained body before the ride. Granted, I was riding more this day (and with a backpack) than I would during any day of the ride. But, eventually (and I mean eventually), I crossed the river and rolled into Upala, a good sized town in many ways pretty similar to Puerto Viejo, but due to its proximity to the border, having a much, much bigger presence of Nicaraguan immigrants in the town. It was still light out when I arrived, which was a pretty big achievement, but my body was all sorts of sore, so much so that I took a break just two kilometers outside the town to convince myself to make the last little push (not a good sign for the trip to come). I had a great evening with Julia, she made a tasty vegetable curry, and we caught up on this and that. 

(some more of what I was looking at)

Bike trip Day -3

You read that right, this set of posts about my bike trip (now two months old) starts in the negative. This will be the subject of the blog for a while.

I had very low-key Christmas and New Year’s, knowing that I needed to save up some money to get ready for the border to border bike ride. Julia and Marissa, two of my TEFL project coworkers, had organized a border to border bike ride both because it’s super cool and to promote active and healthy lifestyles in their communities and the communities of other volunteers. My little purple women’s mountain bike was far from being up to par for a trip like this: so my Christmas/New Year’s present to myself was a new bike. Well, new to me, bikes are super expensive in Costa Rica (about double US prices for the same bike because of import duties and taxes) so I had one of the local bike shops construct me a bike of new and used parts: it ended up being close to perfect for the ride.

In lieu of messing around with taking my bike on the bus, and because, it being summer break, I had little to do, I left three days early and rode my bike up to Upala, where the ride was starting. True to form, I left myself a million things to do the day I left, and didn’t leave until about noon. After an hour, I was in good spirits, riding with my backpack packed full, I completed 18 or 19 kilometers. Not thirty minutes later, my feelings had completely shifted, as I was walking up hills and learned very early on, what everyone on the trip would eventually learn, that riding hills is a completely different beast than riding on flat ground. Either way, I didn’t really have any options, so I ground out the afternoon, fueling myself with packets of empanadas and tortillas with refried beans. It was, despite the obvious physical pain, a gorgeous ride with pleasant stops at small town parks to refuel.

I thought I knew where I was going, but I ended up riding into Ciudad Quesada as the sun set, which concerned me, as it was not on my route. It was a gorgeous ride though, cruising into the valley, with great views of the city, just as the day ended. Patty, a spunky 71 year old TEFL co-volunteer, with whom I was staying that night, had already told me she’d be at English class then, so luckily I was able to reach Allen, a nearby co-volunteer, told me it was all okay, and that I just had to roll downhill for a half hour or so and I’d be at Florencia, her site. Phew. I had a delightful time talking with her very nice host family, they fed me well, and it was off to bed to try to be up early for the 100 kilometer ride the next day, 25 more than the 75 I had just completed.

Click the link

After an embarrassing month-plus hiatus, I finally finished blogging about my trip to Panama. Well, almost, while there, walking the gorgeous streets of Panama Viejo, I noticed a big conversion van with lots of stickers stop and ask the policeman on the corner for some information or directions (there are lots of policemen on corners in Panama City). I noticed that there was a bumper sticker on the back of the van,  which said de Argentina a Alaska. This piqued my interest, so I checked out the rest of the van and saw that there was another sticker with a blog address listed. So I wrote it down, and, turns out that it's pretty self explanatory, two Argentines that are traveling in a van from Argentina to Alaska. They've been on the road for more than two years-thus take it pretty slow-and from what I can tell are currently in Costa Rica. They've got lots of cool stuff on the blog, it's all in Spanish-but I feel like most browsers do a reasonable job of translating these days. There are videos and all that. Probably worth checking out, or if you're into hippie trekkers, maybe try to catch up with them at some point. They seem to be open to anything. I'm sure this isn't that novel of an idea, but it was pretty tight to see the van on the street.

In a few days I'll start posting about my coast to coast bike ride that I went on in the beginning of January. But, in the meantime, my buddy Dave W. completed a coast to coast bike ride across America-just a wee little bit more impressive than crossing Costa Rica. If you're interested in checking it out, you can read through all the posts about the trip (which included a stop in Clive, IA) starting here. 

And, finally, this is one of the funnier comics I've seen in a while.

Back in action

Some exciting things have happened and there have been some big changes in the last two months, and, I'm finally with my computer and connected once again. So, expect fairly regular blog posts for a while. Just below this post you'll see I finally got up the last post from my trip down to Panama.

The big change that has happened in the past two months is that I changed sites. I'll post more about this later, but, the short story is that my program manager and I decided that it would be worthwhile to have me switch sites to hopefully work this school year with teachers and schools that were more apt to collaborate with me. So, I am now living with a new host family in Líverpool, a small town on highway 32, 14 km west of Puerto Limón, which is the big port city on Costa Rica's Caribbean coast. It isn't on Google Maps, but I've tried to add it with their 'map maker' feature. If you go to this link, it's on the highway in between Moín and Rio Madre. If you go to this webpage, a .pdf will load. It's a fairly complex map of the canton of Limón, in the upper left you'll find a detailed map of the Líverpool area, and in the bigger image of the entire canton, you'll have to do some zooming, but it's all the way to the top, in the center, under the light pink splotch.  On the right of this map, you'll see little maps showing the canton of Limón's position within the province of Limón, and you'll also see the province's location within Costa Rica.

Panama Days 4 & 5

The primary reason for the trip to Panama was to run in the Panama City Marathon. Now, San José had its marathon the same weekend, so obviously the attraction of visiting a foreign country, and seeing one of man’s most amazing achievements had a lot to do with the decision to go as well. As the marathon was on Sunday, day five of the trip, day four was pretty calm. Now being sure of the schedule, we successfully picked up our packets, hung out at the mall like we were thirteen again, and got some ice cream. Not just any ice cream, but some of the best ice cream I’ve ever had in my life. The spot: Granclement, a small little shop owned by an expat French couple. It’s worth visiting more than once. We then all got together and made dinner. Elena and Katherine had rented a nice vacation apartment to ensure a good night’s sleep before the race, so we all came over and took advantaged of the fact that they had a kitchen and nice dining room table. We enjoyed a delightful dinner of salad, garlic bread, and pasta with homemade sauce-and probably a bit too much wine considering we had an early morning the next day. 

Up, dressed, and in a taxi by 4:15, it was still pitch black when Katherine, Elena and I arrived at the start line. We met up with Chris and Tarah (a couple that lives near me in Sarapiquí) and her parents (visiting and running in the marathon) as well as fellow volunteers Eric S, Liz L, Chris S, Mason H, and Henley P, all running the marathon. Elena, having never run a distance race before, was running her first marathon. It was the first marathon for Chris, Eric, and perhaps Liz and Mason. It was my second, but, considering the disaster/abnormality that was my first marathon (read here), this would be my first regular marathon. At five, we were off, and for the first two hours, it was pretty regular. I didn’t train for the marathon (not recommended) but had been running sporadically, but never too long, so the first two hours weren’t that bad. But, mainly, they weren’t that bad because it was still nice and cool. There were frequent water stations manned by the police academy students (it took me a while, but I eventually figured out why all of the guys giving water were young, fit, and had shaved heads). It was a fairly pleasant morning run.

This all changed at about the time I hit the Tramo Marino, a long bridge that goes over the marshy bay on the east side of the city. We started on the west side of the city, on the Amador Causeway, and we made our way around the Cerro Ancon with some views of some loading stations for the canal, through the heart of the city, over the long bridge, past Panama Viejo, through some fancy neighborhoods on the east side of the city, and then turned around and made our way back. The pleasant morning run turned into a grueling battle against heat and humidity as I made my way onto the bridge, a two kilometer or so stretch of pavement without a hint of shade. It might have been December 4th, but when you’re only 8 degrees above the equator, that doesn’t much matter. It took me five hours and eleven minutes to finish the race, missing my sub five hour goal by 11 minutes, but, then again, I probably should’ve prepared for the race. The bridge was kilometers 13-14, and at the halfway point (21 K), I started to walk at the water and food stations until I finished my banana, orange, or glass of Powerade. I think this really, really helped me. Because, well, even if you’ve trained, running in 95% humidity and 90+ degree heat is pretty tough to do very long. It was hot. Honestly, that’s about all that needs to be said: it was hot. 

Kilometer 42.2

But, hey, I did finish, and with almost an hour to spare before the safety cut off time! Chris H. and Henley P. both took home cash, as they placed in the foreign men category. Liz L and Katherine did the same in the foreign women category. I had a nice chat with a Venezuelan man that works in Panama City for an auto parts manufacturer. We also had a nice chat with some of the Peace Corps Panama volunteers-as there was a group of them that ran in the half marathon. I rolled back into the hostel about the same time most of the partying guests were rallying themselves up for breakfast. Another delicious lunch at Super Gourmet and an afternoon of awkward ambling around Casco Viejo to prevent my legs from becoming concrete was a very delightful way to spend the afternoon. We all got together one that evening to celebrate with delicious pizza from Ay! Carmela and beers graciously provided by the cash winners. Many of the group were catching a bus that night, so they headed to the station, I strolled around Casco Viejo with Henley and Jake (who made the trip but didn’t run), and then headed back and got my stuff ready for the bus ride the next morning. I left Panama City very satisfied with my time there, having thoroughly enjoyed the city, but also with a feeling that there were some much talked about beaches and islands that are worth another trip to Panama.