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.