After a full day of activities I hit the sack and I'm out like a light. The only disturbance was a 2x6 wooden slat falling from the underside of my bed and slamming against the floor at 3 AM. That certainly woke up everyone in the room. Lo siento mis amigos. I wake up an hour later to find that the damn board fell squarely on my computer. It's got a pretty serious ding on the lid and I'm afraid to open it to see the damage. To my relief I crack it open and find it fully functional. What a lucky break. We'll just slap a Costa Rica sticker over the damage and she'll be good as new.
We arrive bleary eyed at the dock at 4:45 and board a boat that at least has sides that we can batten down in the case of rain. Thankfully, however it doesn't come to that and in an hour we meet up with a car to take us to another town where we'll meet a shuttle. We're going to get a full sampling of Costa Rican modes of conveyance: boat-car-bus-van-raft-shuttle.
Adelante Por Favor
The ride takes about an hour, where we hop on a shuttle and then it's another half hour or so to the rafting location. They serve us a full Costa Rican breakfast of gallo pinto (a variation on rice & beans), eggs, and fried plantains with coffee and we see our old friend Jackie from Dallas who we met in Cahuita. We fill each other in on our goings on then pile on a van to ride 13 miles upstream where they'll drop us in the rio. We get a safety briefing and strap on our lifejackets and helmets.
The guides must think my eagerness to speak Spanish is correlated with my proficiency so I get put on the Spanish only raft.
Whoops
I quickly learn that when Eduardo Espiritu Santu barks "adelante por favor" that means I should paddle forward. "Atras" means paddle backward, and something like "izquierdo adelante, derecho atras" means I'll paddle backwards, seeing as I'm on the right side. As a little bit of added pressure, I'm at the front of the raft so I can't just look to see what everyone else is doing like I'm at yoga class - I have to trust what I hear from Espiritu Santu and go with it.
We head on down the river & pretty quickly encounter some serious rapids. Eduardo is shouting orders and we're all working in lockstep, threading the needle between rocks, boulders, and various conglomerations of river flotsam. If we're being honest though, I think most of the time we're just paddling for show - this river is going to do to us what she wants no matter how much, how hard, or which direction we paddle.
But I have to say it was fucking fun. My god what an adventure. The rapids were pretty consistent the entire way down the river with only short stretches of flat spots. The quiet spots weren't without their benefits though, it gave us some time to catch our breath and enjoy the ridiculous scenery. The whole way down the river we're flanked by mountains and cliffs with lush vegetation and myriad waterfalls so clear you could drink from them. We should know because we did. It was pretty spectacular.
Then about 3/4 of the way down we came to a canyon with 200 ft sheer walls on either side & the guides allowed us to hop out of the raft and float along. The water was crisp and the breeze coming through the canyon felt like heaven. If anybody on the trip had a worry on their mind I'm sure it just floated on down the river.
The Pura-est of Vidas.
There are a couple more stretches of rapids before we make it back to the start. We hop off & walk back to the muster point, where they have lunch ready for us at the same place we breakfasted. I grab a plate & a round of beers for our crew plus our new friend Matt from Fayetteville. We enjoy our food & beer and swap stories from the river. Up on the TV they have photos they took of everyone in the rafts & we all laugh as they scroll by.
After lunch we hop back on shuttles headed to different locations & say goodbye to Matt, who is headed to Puerto Viejo, and Jackie, who is headed to San José and an airplane to take her back to the real world.
It's only the 3 of us on our shuttle to La Fortuna so we have plenty of room to stretch out, read, sleep, and relax before las montañas.
Arenal
We flop out of the shuttle on the main square of La Fortuna and take a minute to get our bearings. We see a bank and pull out some cash since there wasn't an ATM in Tortugero and we're all running a little dry on dinero en efectivo. Cécile informs us that it's only 700 meters to our hostel, which could be half a mile or 10 miles, who the hell knows.
We hoof it to the Arenal Backpackers Resort and this place has more of a party vibe than the previous places we've been. There are people playing pool volleyball and a fridge of beer behind the check-in counter. Naturally I order a beer when checking in and lucky me it's happy hour, meaning we can get two Imperials for 5 thousand Costa Rican pesos or whatever the hell. If I buy a beer and it's in the thousands I'm never going to figure that currency out. You could bamboozle me pretty easily by charging double for happy hour & I would have no idea.
We have to put down a \$1 deposit for a room key, but the idea of a key seems a little unnecessary given that our room has a window that you can just step through to get in.
I need a shower and sustenance in equal measures and I blunder by choosing the latter when a group of people from the hostel invite us to grab a bite. We head out and walk past so many bars & restaurants I can't keep track. I should have just ducked into one by myself. After probably 80,000 meters or something we finally arrive to our destination. It's lit like a cafeteria and the food doesn't look much better.
Fuck me.
I'm seconds away from cutting my losses and heading back to any of the other fine looking establishments we passed along the way when the skies open up and unleash a downpour that would make Niagara Falls look like a trickle.
Fuck me sideways.
I stay and choke down the worst meal I've had since I've been in Costa Rica. Thankfully the rain lightens to a drizzle by the end of our meal and we make our way back to the hostel. We spend the night in the lobby area drinking beers and yukking it up with a group of Germans, a couple Israelis, and a dude from California. Every one of these hostels is like a model UN meeting.
We get a lazy start to the next day and I wander down to the Rainforest Cafe for gallo pinto, fried eggs, & plantains and wash it down with a coffee. I head back to the hostel and find the group discussing hiking trails around the Arenal volcano. A plan coalesces and 5 of us squeeze into an Uber headed for the trailhead.
Arenal is a dormant andesitic stratovolcano, the youngest, and until 2010, most active volcano in Costa Rica. It's estimated to be less than 7,500 years old, a mere toddler on the geologic timescale. It was dormant for hundreds of years then in 1968 erupted unexpectedly destroying 3 towns and burying over 6 square miles under rocks, lava, and ash. It was continuously active from then until 2010, making it the 10th longest duration volcanic eruption since records began in 1750. It towers over the town of La Fortuna, but is obscured from view most days due to clouds, as it has been since we arrived to town.
We walk up to the main entrance and learn that the entrance fee is \$20 and when you're ballin on a budget that aggression will not stand, man. One of the German kids finds a spot where the trail is only ~20m from the main road so we illicitly duck into the forest & make it to the main trail pretty quickly. We follow it for a few clicks, which takes us up to the edge of the volcanic cone, and for a few brief seconds the clouds part and we're able to see the summit. It's quite a sight and if we spin 180 degrees we can the the full expanse of Arenal Lake. It certainly doesn't suck.
We asymptotically approach the appropriate amount of time for appreciating the andesitic agglomeration then head back down for some more hiking. After another hour or two of rambling we reach an enormous 400 year old ceiba tree that pierces through the canopy to a height of 100 feet. It's here where we see on the map that there is an emergency exit from the trail out to the main road. That looks like a pretty solid option considering we would have to walk another 2 miles to get back to the entrance. We get to the spot where the map shows an exit but we can't seem to find a trail. We poke in the forest a bit and decide to just go for it, how bad could it be?
Well you could say we got out over our skis a bit. This is some pretty dense shit - I feel like Newman after he crashes his car in Jurassic Park. I'm half expecting a nimbly little dinosaur to pop out from a tree and spray goop in our faces. It probably doesn't help that I'm wearing a bathing suit and tank top. At least I have my hiking boots on, which is more than most of our merry band of scofflaws can say. It's about 30 minutes of trudging through some foliage that's thicker than a bowl of oatmeal before we reach the road, where we tumble out of the forest like a bunch of hooligans in an 80s movie.
We must have really been a sight to see - 5 miscreants covered head to toe in mud, scrapes, and mosquito bites walking down the side of the road in the middle of nowhere Costa Rica. We order an Uber but he's turns us down when he finds that we have 5. He probably just didn't want our dirty, smelly asses in his car. We try to snag another but it's slim pickins out here in the wilderness so we're reduced to hoofin it.
Our original plan was to check out the hot springs after the hike, but now we're content with finding a ride home. A few cars pass by and our outstretched thumbs are ignored. After about half an hour of walking we finally get a taker & a fella named Wian from Miami pulls over in a Toyota SUV and tells us to hop in.
He's on his way to San José to meet some friends and must have felt sorry for our sad state of affairs. We ask him if he can drop us off at the hot springs, which seems to pique his interest and he asks to join us. We find a parking space and make the short walk down to the springs, which consists of a pretty swift moving river of warm water and some rocky pools to lounge in. It's pretty relaxing but you gotta keep your wits about you or you'll be swept right down the river. Wian remarks how glad he is that he picked us up because he didn't know about the hot springs but we are the ones who are eternally indebted for the ride. I guess you could call it a Wian-Wian situation (lo siento).
We make our way back out to the car and the clouds have cleared from Arenal and we are offered some more spectacular views of the prominence. Everyone snaps some pics and 10 minutes later Wian drops us at the hostel and continues on to San José. Sometimes the travel gods just can't help but smiling on you.
I get cleaned up and make the short walk to La Fortuna Pub and fire up my computer for my fantasy football draft. The greaseboard out front advertized 2 for 1 cocktails from 5-7 and seeing as it's 10 to 7 I'll take that deal, damn good deal. I decide on a guaro sour, a Costa Rican staple made from guaro (a rum-like liquor common in Central America made from sugar cane), lime, sugar, and a sprig of mint. It is delightful and absolutely hits the spot. It puts me in the type of mood to draft Josh Allen in the first round.
*Championship.*
I can feel the apathy from everyone else in the draft and it ends in record time. I finish my 2 cocktails and follow them up with a couple Costa Rican craft beers - a Furia IPA from Manada Coyote Brewery outside San Ramon and a Chorotega IPA from Numu Brewing in Liberia. I scarf down a bleu cheese burger somewhere in there and I am feeling the pura vida energy.
I head back to the hostel and meet up with the crew. We play some card games with a random smattering of Europeans and enjoy our fair share of brewskis. Our plan tomorrow is to hike the Volcan Chato, a dormant volcano right next door to Arenal. It's a bit older than Arenal, having first erupted around 38,000 years ago and last erupted about 3,500 years ago. The top has a crater a little over half a mile wide with a lake that you can swim in. Good enough for me.
Chato Mi Corazon
The next morning we are discussing plans for an Uber when an Israeli gentleman named Nir overhears us and offers to give us a ride in his rental car. He was wanting to do the hike too and joins the crew. The ride to the park is short, where the guard at the little parking hut charges us \$12 and gives us directions to get to the trail. He tells us that the trail goes a bit up the side of the volcano and ends at an observation point. This is where the trail officially ends and any hiking done above this point is illegal. If we choose to continue we are "on our own," and while he doesn't wink he gets as close as humanly possible without actually winking. Gotcha. Illegal or unlawful I'm going to swim in that damn lake.
The hike to the observation point takes about half an hour, where we take in the views and snap a few photos, before beginning our trek up the illicit trail. Perhaps trail is the wrong word. It's more of a muddy chute. It's slick and it's steep and it's no joke. We amble up slippery makeshift mud steps, ladders of tree roots, and pull ourselves up by overhanging branches. Compared to all the other hiking we've done on this trip this is a different animal. Thank god it's not raining because this "trail" would be unpassable.
We put in an honest 30 minutes of work when we find our first evidence that the lawlessness of this trail is more de jure than de facto. We run into a gentleman on his way back down from the top who says how magnificent the lake is. We have been hiking an hour in total now, we must be getting close right? We ask him how much longer he thinks we have and he says another hour. At least.
Damn
This is a slog and we're only a third of a way through the slog section. Nothing we can do now but to keep on trudging and trusting the process. On our trudge we encounter another half dozen groups making their way back down the mountain. Their estimates of how much longer we have vary wildly - we saw two different groups within 5 minutes of each other and one said we had half an hour & the other an hour and a half. But what each group agrees upon is how incredible the destination is. The water in the lake is so cool and crisp and the views so breathtaking that the hike is most definitely worth it.
We continue on and just short of 2 hours since we left the car we reach the top. We can see Arenal above and the lake below. It's an absolutely stunning vista. We catch our breath and I top off a couple of the others' water bottles with my camelbak and we start the hike down to the lake.
And this section makes the shit we just climbed look like a throwaway game up in Rochester. Good god is it steep and slippery. We methodically wake our way down, getting every bit of our clothing covered in mud, and in 15 minutes we are at the water's edge. I strip off my shit as fast as I can and quickly confirm the veracity of the other expedition parties' reports. This is magical.
Unfortunately the view of Arenal has become shrouded in clouds but there's no way I'm going to let that dampen my mood. We are swimming in a god damn volcano crater - if there were a list of things I'd rather be doing right now it would be exceptionally short.
People have asked me if I planned this trip as a way to "find myself", which to be fair is a perfectly acceptable question to ask of a 33 year old bachelor on a solo trip to Costa Rica staying in hostels with kids nearly half his age. In actuality I caught a case of the "fuckits" - fuck it, let's go to Costa Rica and learn Spanish.
But it's right about now that I learn what this trip has been trying to teach me. It's right about now that I learn to fully appreciate and undividedly embrace the moment. Since I didn't make any plans this trip I haven't had a "what's next". Everything I've done is about the here and now and it's here and now, floating in a volcanic lake, that the feeling hits me like a ton of bricks. It's the kind of feeling that I needed a complete break from the comfort of my routine to fully understand. I know this sounds like hippy-dippy bullshit, and it probably is, but it's the kind of feeling I never knew I needed. It's remarkable.
My kumbaya epiphany is cut short by the rumble of thunder off on the horizon. We look at each other and we're all thinking the same thing - let's get the fuck out of this caldera before it rains because there's no way in hell we're getting out if it does. We gather up our things and start climbing out. This is significantly easier than the climb in - only 5 minutes out, compared to 15 minutes in. Back at the top we breathe a sigh of relief that we didn't get stuck down there, and now it's a long muddy ramble back down the hill.
It's a lot easier going down than it was coming up & we make it back do the car in about an hour and a half compared to the 2 hours on the way up. Thankfully the thunder stayed as a distant rumble & we didn't encounter any rain on the way down. We clean off as much mud as we can before hopping back in the car for the short drive back to the hostel.
We all warsh up and head to dinner, where I treat myself to a delicious bowl of pasta and a glass of full bodied red. After supper we head to the market and I pick up some beer, a bottle of wine, and a bag of ice. The others ask me why I'm getting a bag of ice & I reply that I don't want my beers to get warm like they did last night. Everyone just sort of shrugs and goes about their business.
We get back to the hostel and start our nightly ritual of drinking and swapping travel stories. I go to fetch my second beer from my bag of ice and I'm asked again why I got ice. If there were mountains on the can they would certainly be blue - I tell them it might be an American thing but I don't like warm beer. They say neither do we, that's why we put ours in the fridge over there.
A fridge! The fuck you say! The whole time!? The WHOLE time!?
Why the hell didn't you tell me this when I was at the store buying ice?? Some more shrugs and they say they thought I knew. Now why on god's green earth would I buy ice to keep my beer cold if I knew there was a perfectly good fridge in the lobby. These fucking kids.
After some (many) choice curse words and admonishing these utes about respecting their elders we all have a good laugh about it. On the bright side there is a group who is making rum & cokes so they now have ice for their cocktails. Doing my 1/11th.
While we're all carousing a dozen Belgians saunter in and join in the merriment. I hit all the highlights of my Belgian knowledge, namely the mindblowing deft of Kevin De Bruyne with a soccer ball, my cousin Thibaut Courtouis's dexterity in net, and the superiority of the Flemish to the Walloons. I'll hang on to chocolate and waffles in case of emergency.
The rabblerousing continues through the night and I head to bed with a shuttle scheduled for Monteverde at 8 AM tomorrow morning. This entire trip has been a leap of faith and speaking of leaps 😈....