COSTA RICA Day 6: Well, it is a rain forest…(Jueves)

I was in a children's music video many years ago, doing stunt riding in a Billy Bob Bear costume, riding to the song, "You Picked A Fine Time To Leave Me Loose Wheel." I was reminded of this as I was without my loose wheel for the day...

It's a bit of a blessing that I didn't have my bike because we had some major mal tiempo... it was POURING. 

The day turned into another defacto chill day, Jean with her book, me with my laptop. We did try to head out for a couple of hikes when we saw some breaks in the weather, but it would literally start pouring again as soon as we arrived at the trail head. We took that as a sign.

We did brave the deluge and head in to La Fortuna for coffee--I loved the Gecko. Anyway, there we were treated to a reenactment of the famous Costa Rican Craneo y Culebra y Perro dance. In this dramatization a young boy donned a skull mask and taunted a local dog with a rubber snake. It was beautiful and moving. It was also very strange.

The really exciting part of the day came when we tried a local Italian restaurant, Anch'io, and Jean swooned over the pasta and wine. Mmmmmmmm.

Need a chainsaw???

As you may recall, I'm calling our recent wind storm the GDWSO2010 (the Great Destructive Wind Storm Of 2010), and I'm still amazed at all of the down trees I've seen. In the woods, and on the trails, there are still plenty of actual trees still down, but out on the streets and in the neighborhoods, I'm mostly seeing giant stumps and maybe big log piles. 

However, my neighbor (the house behind me), had a tree come down and crush his garage. Aside from some caution tape, NOTHING has been done. That's no big deal when it comes to his garage, but the tree that's down is resting against his neighbor's house. WTF? I'd be enraged if that tree was against my house. 

Anyway, I took this pic right after the storm, and sadly, the scene is unchanged!

Towel Sculptures from Costa Rica

Sure, I had never thought that towels would be an appropriate medium for sculpture, but the staff at Hotel El Silencio Del Campo opened my eyes...

The person who cleaned our room each day started with a relatively easy heart shaped design, followed for a couple of days with various geometric shapes, but then she (I'm assuming she was a she... is that wrong?), kicked it up a couple of notches by making an elephant and finally a pair of swans kissing. Origami that you can dry yourself off with... that's pretty cool!

THE Understatement of 2010

I'll take a little break from my Costa Rica postings (more coming) to briefly talk about my ride yesterday. Jean and I took the bikes up to Willowdale, and, well, to say that there was some wind damage and some trees down would be, in my opinion, THE understatement of 2010.

I'm calling that storm a couple of weeks ago the GDWSO2010 (the Great Destructive Wind Storm Of 2010). There were some MAJOR trees down. Someone (NEMBA?) has already done a significant amount of clearing, but wow, there's more to go. Get your chainsaws ready...

On the plus side, we did find some new singletrack!

Dogs of Costa Rica

I'll take a break from telling you about the trip to give you a short presentation about some of the dogs we met in Costa Rica...

 

  

  

  

  

  

We love dogs of all nationalities!

COSTA RICA Day 5: Quiero que me arreglen la bicicleta (Miercoles)

Another day of riding, and another broken spoke! No comprende!

After breakfast we headed out past Nuevo Arenal to a different hotel/resort called Mystica. This place is owned by an Italian couple, and they boast that there are good mountain biking trails nearby. We contacted one of the owners and made arrangements to head out there, get some good Italian food, and do some riding. Mystica was a very cool resort—we’d probably stay there for a day or two on our next trip, and the food—belisimo!

We got some directions for a ride, which included lots and lots of climbing, and headed out. I had hoped that my minor tweaking the other day would have limited by chances of busting another spoke, but alas, this was not the case. As we were climbing and climbing and climbing, I heard the all too familiar “ping” followed by “rub, rub, rub.” I could still roll without being too hampered, and I held my breath while I tightened the opposing spokes to lessen the rubbing just a bit. Then, we soldiered on. Or should I say up.

We climbed a good 700ft of elevation, then hit a town called Sabalito. From there, it was a steady downhill to Tierra Molenas where we were supposed to find a dirt road that would take us up to a wind farm. Unfortunately, we got a bit lost. Instead, we found some gnarly, rutted, jeep “roads” that seemed like fun. We cruised down for a couple of miles, ever descending, until the trail abruptly ended.

Jean was NOT a happy camper. Partially because we were slightly lost, although, I argued that point, because I had my GPS, and I knew EXACTLY where we were… I just couldn’t get us to where we wanted to go easily because the trails/road aren’t marked or mapped. The other part to her chagrin was the fact that we had essentially descended roughly 1,000ft on some gnarly trails, and our only option was to turn around and go back up.

In retrospect, the climbing wasn’t bad, and once we reached the peak in Sabalito, it was smooth downhill sailing on the road back to Mystica. The BeGo brought us back to the hotel and our hunger brought us back to the restaurant, for typico Arroz con pollo.

After an adequate amount of time to digest, we made our way down to the hot springs, when lo and behold, we ended up chatting with some fellow Massachusettians and one Connecticutian. The truly ironical thing is that one of the guys is a mountain biker and fellow NEMBA member.

As we were heading back to the room, we stopped off at the reception desk to talk with Elios, one of the VERY helpful staff here at the hotel. After much bilingual debate, he recruited his amigo to take my wheel back into town to see if anyone else could remedy my situation… 

 

 

COSTA RICA Day 4: More Volcano (Martes)

The Arenal volcano dominates the landscape in this part of the country, so we felt obligated to do some exploring at the Arenal Volcano National Park. No one is allowed to hike on the volcano, something to do with the fact that it’s active and magma burns, so we were kept a “safe” distance away. Some hikers did apparently try, and die, back in 2000.

The trails around the volcano were a mix of rain forest and walking on lava rock. Unfortunately, there were a few tour groups in the area at the same time, so we never could escape the masses. One trail, I’ll call “Broken Hip” was a steep climb up broken lava rock. I call it Broken Hip because hordes of tourists—old tourists—were trying to scramble up and down the rocks. I had to hold my breath sometimes while watching these people. I’ll give them credit for not sitting back in their rocking chairs, but yikes. I did see one woman go down, but she seemed to bounce back up. Hardy foreigners. An American, I would guess, would lie there waiting for a helicopter and a lawyer. 

Anyway, the tourists did provide some interesting visuals, but they were also, unfortunately, loud. While walking on one of the trails in the forest, we were behind a group of about 20 who sounded like they were all trying to stomp on grapes and talk to each other with their hearing aids off. And they wondered why they didn’t get to see any wildlife.

After our sojourn around the volcano trails, we hit the road on the north side of Laguna de Arenal. This TWISTY narrow road had a full-on traffic jam as some large trucks and tour busses—going in opposite directions—had to do some very creative maneuvering to get by. Once past that jam, it was smooth sailing in the BeGo, passing strangle little critters on the side of the road, until we hit Nuevo Arenal. 

We stopped in this little lake-side village, for, of course, some German food. Sauerbraten anyone? Filled with meat and dumplings, we made our way back along the narrow, twisty road, pushing the BeGo like a finely tuned racing machine, back to Fortuna for another delicious coffee at the Gecko Gourmet and finally back to the hotel for more hot springs relaxation. Ah….

Costa Rica--A Short Video

COSTA RICA Day 3: The quest for a spoke! (Lunes)

As promised, we awoke on Monday ready to take on Costa Rica! We even had the pleasure of a totally clear view of the Arenal Volcano, which is directly across from our hotel, another breakfast at the hotel, and then we were suiting up for a ride—first to a waterfall, then back through Fortuna to another town with an old bridge and a swimming spot on the River Arenal.  I had “way points” plotted on my GPS, and navigation was a snap. And by snap, I mean “snap,” as in, that what I heard as Jean and I were pedaling along a rutted gravel road. I was down one spoke—drive side of course (not that I had any extra spokes with me)—and my wheel, she was a rubbin’. We kept going as best we could, but as the terrain got steeper and steeper, my wheel was more and more wobbly and rubbing the frame something fierce. We decided to call it quits and head into town, to TRY to find a bike shop.

After a couple of loops through town, Jean spied a sign that said, “Ciclo Cali,” and that, coupled with the Shimano and GT logos on the front of the building suggested a bike shop. Sure enough, it was. The mechanic didn’t speak any English, but I was able to point to the broken spoke—that’s how good my Spanish is—I can point. 

Anyway, he fixed several other bikes before mine—all with the efficiency of a practiced mechanic. When he got to mine, he found that he didn’t have the right sized spoke. He did, however, hop on his little motor scooter to go get one. I don’t know where he went, but he came back in a few minutes and set to fixing my wheel. I was out of there for only 1,500 colones (about $3.00).

Unfortunately, about 15 minutes later, I snapped ANOTHER spoke. We limped back to the shop to start the whole process over again. But now, it was lunch time, so he said come back in about 2 hours. Jean and I wandered around Fortuna again, and this time had lunch at the Lava Lounge for some frio cerveza and Arroz con pollo. We killed some more time at the Gecko Gourmet Café with one of THE best cups of coffee I’ve ever had.

Another 1,500 colones later and I was back on the road. I flipped the bike and took out some of the tension on all of the spokes, just to reduce my chance of popping another. We made it back to the hotel and took a dip in the pool, then the hot springs—ah! It wasn't the long ride we were hoping for, but it still turned out to be a fun day.

The hot springs at the hotel are great. It’s a secluded little pool surrounded by flowers, with a great view of the volcano. And, it’s right next to a bar… if you like that sort of thing. It was a relaxing evening after that with another killer meal at the hotel restaurant and then early to bed.

COSAT RICA Day 2: A day to recharge (Domingo)

We slept until about 6:00am, and were in the restaurant by 7:00 for breakfast. I’ve got to say, the restaurant at the hotel was great. For breakfast, we'd get a big plate of fresh fruit, orange juice, killer coffee and then your choice of many different dishes. I opted for an omelet, Jean for something with rice and beans and eggs.

After breakfast it was time to work my magic by building our bikes. All in all, it was an easy process and something I think I’m getting more proficient at. I do, however, need to have a better way to inflate our tires. Each 29x2.2 tire took 350 pumps with my mini-pump (yeah, I counted). My arms were ready to fall off. 

Right about the time that I had the bikes all finished, Jean went off for her spa treatment which included a “rain forest massage,” and volcano mud mask facial. While she was relaxing, I secured our Internet connection (I’m addicted, what can I say?) and then took my bike out for a short cruise. In only about 5 miles I realized that I had essentially gone from minimal riding on my rollers (remember, I’ve been sick for about a month) and living in frigid New England to riding in mountains in a rain forest next to an active volcano. Yeah, it was hot. I came back from my short ride drenched, but still, it felt great to be on the bike and to spin the legs out.

Jean and I took the BeGo into town, Fortuna, for lunch. We landed at Pizza Luigi’s, which despite sounding like a cheesy Italian restaurant was actually an excellent authentic local eatery. Jean had a salad with tuna, I had some chicken with mushrooms, and we sampled some killer obscura cerveza (dark beer). After lunch we strolled around Fortuna then made our way back to the hotel and, we actually took a nap! Relaxation was in full effect.

Dinner was at the hotel restaurant, which was again, perfecto. We got a platter called “to share,” which was a Costa Rican equivalent to a Pu-Pu platter. It was awesome! After some more chilaxin, it was time for bed, so that we could attack on Monday.

 

 

COSTA RICA: Getting there is NOT half the fun (Sabado)

Jean and I have traveled quite a bit; in fact, traveling is one of our favorite activities. However, no matter how hard we try to be ready, I don’t think we’ve ever had a trip that didn’t require a flurry of late-night packing and preparation the night before a seemingly MANDATORY “way too early” wake up call. This always means that we usually start our long days of travel on 3-4 hours of sleep.

This trip was no different. Despite starting our packing days in advance, we were still arranging and rearranging stuff, pulling out extra clothes, and otherwise checking our lists until about midnight. Four in the morning, came without a warning, and we were in the car and on the road a little after five. 

The drive to the airport, the checking in process, and getting on the plane were all uneventful. After the flight attendant passed out beverages, I thought I’d close my eyes for a little bit. BIG mistake. I think I was asleep for maybe 15 seconds before I was rudely awakened by the sensation of ice cold orange juice in my lap. The cup, which looked tiny on my fold-down tray, must have contained at least a gallon. I had orange juice ALL over my pants and even a small puddle in one of my shoes.

To put this all into perspective, I had a huge stain on my pants that made it look like I had wet myself, my crotch was soaked with sticky sweet orange juice, I was wearing heavy denim jeans and cotton skivvies, and I still had about six hours of travel ahead of me. Six hours of sitting on a vinyl seat cushion. I was not a happy man. I had hoped that I’d be able to pick up SOME kind of pants or shorts while our plane stopped off in Charlotte—I suspected that I’d at least be able to find some NASCAR sweatpants—but that was not in the cards. At one of the men’s clothing stores, I was told, there were no pants in the airport. Can you imagine, a pantless airport! I couldn’t wait to land in Costa Rica so I could grab some clothes out of my bag. Oy!

I don't know if the airport in San Jose, Costa Rica was also pantless, but I can tell you that the line to get through customs was as long as the airport was. In other words, it was a LOOOONG line, and we were at the end of it. Multiple flights must have landed at roughly the same time. Oy, again.

Now, the other part of preparing for our trips usually involves lots of research on directions and maps, language books and local phrases, currency exchange, etc, you know, all the things foreign travelers need to know when making their way through a different country. We landed in San Jose without any of that. We picked up a Spanish-English phrase book at the airport and then went to an ATM to get some money. The currency in Costa Rica is the colon (colones), which has the current exchange rate of 1 Costa Rican colon = 0.001807 U.S. dollars. I took out 100,000 colones which is, I think, about $12.

Anyway, from the ATM we made our way to the rental car desk, and then via shuttle, to the actual car lot. After a long and arduous process, we were finally on the road in our tiny, hamster powered, BeGo. We also decided to rent the optional GPS unit, and you have NO IDEA how glad we are that we did.

Our drive out of San Jose was uneventful, and then we started meandering north on some fairly narrow, twisty, roads. By the way, there are virtually NO road signs… there are a smattering of faded signs once in a while, but certainly not enough to navigate with any level of confidence. Still, I had some directions from the rental car place, and I wanted to make the drive, at least in theory, without the aid of the GPS unit. Then it got dark. And foggy. Then, if there is such a word, foggier.

I am now going to struggle for a bit as I don’t think words, or even photos could ever convey the lack of visibility that we drove through. It was the worst driving conditions I’ve ever experienced. The fog was so thick, it goes beyond any cliché such as pea soup or cutting with a knife. We literally, could barely see beyond the hood of the car. The headlights were no help and the high beams made visibility worse. You might ask, “why not just pull over?” And again, without being there, you can’t understand, but the road was so narrow, and there was no shoulder, there was no place to go. Add to this already challenging drive the fact that there were locals out walking on the road, and a fair share of oncoming traffic, and it was bizarre. Imagine driving along, focused on the elusive yellow lines in the road and the occasional reflectors, when all of a sudden there are people walking on the side, and also, suddenly headlights appear on your left. I could go on and on, but let me just say, again, it was unbelievable. Here’s where the GPS comes in… I was actually making real time turns partially by having Jean co-pilot me via the GPS (turn more, turn more), because I might was well have had my windshield painted white.

I don’t know if this fog was a common occurrence or an aberration, but I would not want to have to drive through that again—and I’ll typically drive through anything.

Another interesting part to the drive from San Jose to Fortuna was that the traffic going the other way consisted of hundreds of cars (unfortunately, only coming in spurts) with mountain bikes on them, including MANY vans with easily 15-20 bikes on the roof. I was in a perpetual state of WTF during the white knuckle drive. It turns out that there was a HUGE race going on, but more on that later.

After a couple of hours of inching along in the car, the fog finally cleared and we were finally able to make some good time. We rolled through La Fortuna (a city over-run with mountain bikers), grabbed a quick bite, and, at last, found Hotel El Silencio Del Campo at about 9:00pm (10:00pm to us). It was a LOOOOONG day of sticky, treacherous travel.  We were asleep in no time.

Cough, cough, cough...wheeeeeeeeeze.

I'm sick. I hate being sick. I've been "sick" for about two weeks now. At first, I thought it was just a little viral illness, a cute little rhinovirus perhaps, that would wreak some havoc in my sinuses for a few days and then move on. Perhaps that's how it started, but just when I thought I was on the mend (meaning, I could breathe through my nose again), the microbes sensed my wavering guard and launched a full assault on my precious lungs. The coughing, hacking and wheezing began in earnest. I no longer simply had erythematous nares as a sign of my weakened state. No, now I had audible clues (the above mentioned coughing, wheezing, and hacking). I actually had to take a sick day from work, and I NEVER take sick days. Fortunately, I think the extra day of rest helped a bit. That and the arsenal of chemicals I'm ingesting.  I am polypharmacy and I will not back down.

While, of course, this is no real big deal... I've got a little cold (I'll bet that's what patient zero with Ebola thought), I am completely disheartened in that I haven't worked out in nearly a month. So much for my bold 2010 training plans! Between some VERY busy work weeks, with VERY busy home projects (i.e., packing, moving, staging and trying to sell our house), and my fragile condition, nay, I've not touched a bike nor piece of exercise equipment in weeks. I wore my running shoes around the house yesterday just to remember that I had a pair. And, the martial arts gym I belong to even called to see if I had been abducted. Coughing tiger, wheezing dragon indeed.

Sigh. I felt like I was losing my identity as a cyclist, so this morning I went ahead and renewed my coaching license with USA Cycling AND became a member of the American College of Sports Medicine. Later, I'll spend some time reading VeloNews and Cyclocross Magazine, and that should help bring me back to myself. Maybe I should buy some bike stuff online...