Location: Chunches Cafe accross from La Pension Santa Elena, Monteverde
Music: Frou Frou, Imogen Heap, Coheed and Cambria(yes I listen to Imogen alot but her music helps me focus.
The day I'd been waiting for since I left Central America last year was finally here. We were leaving San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua for Monteverde, Costa Rica. We had one border to cross and 50k to travel through the mountains of Costa Rica, and the weather reports hadn't been good. It was hard to believe it was raining in Monteverde standing in the 90 degree sunlight at the border. We gassed up our bikes and hit the PanAmerican tarmac. It was good to be on the PA1 and actually be in my destination country. If I'm being honest with myself, La Pension Santa Elena in Monteverde was to be my finish line.
The ride South on the 1 towards Cañas was powerful. The sun was dropping below nearby rolling hills and as the road crested, the Nicoya Peninsula and its bay glimmered orange and red. To the east the breath of the cloud forest fell into the hills and disappeared onto the valley floor. A wall of rainbow traveled through the mist as we moved under a nearly full-moon, rising just above the clouds. If this was my finish line I'd been welcomed with a celebration.
We took a left off the highyway at Cañas and headed toward Tilaran. As we gained altitude the clouds began to come down and the air began to cool. Before leaving the gas station I mentioned to Chris that we had a long ride ahead of us, little did I know I'd made the understatement of the trip. While we were stopped asking directions in Cañas Andrew lost his footing and the bike. He cleared the bike before it hit the ground but he ended up pulling a muscle in his back.
As we moved higher into the clouds the wind picked up and the mist stung my exposed skin. My windshield and faceshield are both tinted and conspire against me while riding at night. The water droplets like the compound lenses of an insects eye. I opted to ride standing, faceshield up, bearing the sting, giving me some visibilty and chance at surviving. The shine of tailights off the surface of the road was unerving, we were riding on luck. At one point Jarkko stopped to put on his jacket and used too much front brake, loosing his traction and his bike to the loose gravel on the shoulder. He jumped from the bike and avoided injury, though the boxes on the back took a good bending.
Into the clouds the road became more steep, more slick, and less visible. I had been having some electrical problems with my bike earlier in the day which joined forces with my face and windshield to end me. The positive terminal on the battery had loosened from vibration and turned my headlight into one half of a sound and light show. At times I had no light, others I had full power, and the rest it flickered like a candle. It caused me to fall behind at one point, which I discovered was even worse because I had no taillights for reference and no help from the other's headlights. I made good time on the straightaways to close the gap and eventually caught up.
After a short stop to change gear I pulled out front with the help of the lights behind me. As we descended a gravelly hill I turned my GPS light on to check our location and in the instant I pulled my concentration from the road it banked sharply to the right leaving me in a straight line towards a small mound and further, a cliff. I locked my rear brake, dropped my gear to first and said a short prayer, very short. Chris said my bike was sideways and he thought for sure I was going down, but true to my first 5500 miles I kept my wheels underneath me and then paused for a quick breath of air as the guys crawled past me. There's nothing like nearly avoiding injury and death to make you feel truly alive.
As the kilometers counted down I thought of the ride I’d imagined into Monteverde. It had been of warm air, clear skies, and dry roads. This ride couldn't have been any further from that, and for some reason I was in love with it. We were climbing a hill nearly 20km from Monteverde when we rose from the clouds into heaven. Above the rain, the wind, and the danger the moon lit the mountain and the road ahead. The intensity of the situation is hard to capture. It's one of those memories where your spine chills in waves, tearducts swell, and euphoria becomes tactile. Life can make you feel like a demon or a god. I was hanging onto the edge of divinity with my feet dangling into the abyss.
We climbed in and out of the clouds a few more times before finally arriving two hours later in Monteverde. I hooted and hollered like a cowpoke on the range, while the locals looked at me like a steer.
We were here, we'd made it. What started for me as a joke, "...ya we should ride down from Oregon, chuckle", became a goal, a reality, and last night, an accomplishment. I have no idea what will come next, but I'm hoping the stories are good.
I have a few weeks to add to the blog that are full of good stories and awesome people. I'm going to continue to add information including a gear list, do's and dont's, favorites, info on hostels, hotels, and camping, borders, toll roads and booths, topes, bike setup, locals, and more!
Thanks for reading and I look forward to hearing from you! Please email me with ANYTHING!
See you soon!
We are enjoying your posts, and were directed to you by the Loud Family (6 For the Road)! We have been living in Central Mexico for the past 4.5 months, but leave on Wednesday to start making our long drive back to Alaska. It is fun to read your comments, thoughts, etc, as we have shared many of them. We will definitely miss Mexico, and will be back. Hopefully we will be able to travel further south in future years, as well!
ReplyDeleteStay safe, and keep writing!