Costa Rican Death March

...good things which belong to prosperity are to be wished, but the good things that belong to adversity are to be admired.  Francis Bacon...

On Sunday morning we came face to face with Gallo (guy yo) Pinto.  This was the much beloved traditional Costa Rican breakfast.  It didn’t sound very good to me but Kristen and Sandy both ordered it.  It consisted of fried plantain, rice and beans, fried eggs, and a ½” chunk of greasy cheese.  Sometimes foreign phrases and words are hard to translate so let me describe this dish in Iowa English.  You get some soft old bananas, slice them into thin pieces, pour a mixture of molasses and diesel fuel over it and then fry them until they turn dark brown.  This produces the soft, soggy, rubber tasting plantain.  Mix some dark fried rice with some white steamed rice, add some week-old  dark red beans with any other beans left around and pack them firmly down until everything sticks together.  Then take out an ice cream scoop and dish out a large helping next to the plantain.  Over cook a couple fried eggs and arrange tastefully on the same plate with the cheese, rice and beans,  and plantain. Ta Da!! . Gallo Pinto!  I was still in afterglow from the previous night’s meal so I ordered an omelet.  

After breakfast, we went into town to acquire the necessary equipment for the day’s hike.  Sandy needed a hat and Elmer needed a new pair of sunglasses and a hat to shade the ever enlarging bald spot on the top of his head.  We then hired a local man to take us out to the Cabo Blanco Natural Reserve.  It was about a 10 mile drive and cost us 2000 colones ($4).  This was a rain forest alive with unusual plants and screaming monkeys.  We would take a 2 hour walk through the forest and end up at a beautiful beach along the Pacific Ocean.  All this and more for only $25.  It was 11 AM and because we had to catch a 5 PM bus back to the city I suggested that we march straight through the forest without stopping so we could see how much time it actually took to walk the trail.  Then we could swim for an allotted time and then slowly walk back and read every sign, chase every butterfly, admire every branch that resembled a monkey, and take all the pictures our digital camera would hold.  I am a man, I admit it and this was a manly plan.  Logical, getting us back in time, yet giving us time to do everything we wanted to do.  I was outvoted, 1 to 1.  Sandy wanted to stop and smell the roses wherever and whenever the mood struck.  Since this was our vacation, I immediately saw the wisdom in doing whatever she wanted so I caved in.  I had an ingrown toenail that was bleeding, there was  a hole in the bottom of my right foot that hurt, I was wearing the backpack that weighed about 20 pounds, the temperature was over 80 degrees, and the humidity was 82%. All these factors would normally spell trouble, but I was no mere mortal.  I was a lumber salesman in my natural environment (a forest) so we set off without a care in the world. 

We stopped to look at any unusual branches.  Every butterfly produced a heartfelt Ooohh.  If a bird would fly by, we strained to see where it would land.  We read every trail sign in English that told of some significant feature in front of us.  Then we read the Spanish version of the same sign.  We took pictures of a big tree.  We took pictures of a little tree.  We took pictures of a medium sized tree.  The farther we walked, the worse the trail became.  At times the path was steep and hard to climb.  There were places where the trail was simply a 10” wide washed out area from the rainy season.  We climbed over trees. We crawled under low hanging tree branches.  The only relief was found in a small stream that we had to cross a couple times.  I stooped down and used my new cap to scoop up water and pour it over my head.  Sandy stood in the stream in her hiking sandals and let the water wash over her feet. We walked for miles using most of the water in the backpack.  I dreamed of younger days when my body would actually do what I wanted it to do.  Now it took a determined effort to continue, wandering when this death march would end.  Eventually we came upon 2 other couples looking up into the trees.  There were several monkeys gathered there looking down to see if perchance any humans might pass by.  These humans would not be in their natural element so it would really be a sight to behold.  Eventually we got tired of looking at each other so we moved on. The path had been climbing for some time so we knew that we would soon have to descend in order to get to the ocean.  We finally started down and the walk became slower since the trail was rocky and it was difficult to find a safe place to put your foot.  As we went down my foot would slide to the end of the shoe and it would irritate my ingrown toenail.  I couldn’t remember when I had so thoroughly enjoyed a similar walk.  Over 2-½ hours after we began, we came to the beach.  We had survived but I was worried about the return trip since we had drank most of our water and Sandy and I were beat.   

I went to the water facet near the beach and fought to beat back the anxiety and concern that came when I found out it didn’t work.  I wouldn’t be able to complete this trip without replacing the water I’d lost.  Kristen didn’t seemed fazed by any of this since she jumped into the ocean as soon as we got to the beach.  I ate an apple and a hunk of dry bread and then took a piece of paper and updated my will.  When they found my body, I wanted them to know and understand my final wishes.   

We found a shower line at the edge of the forest and determined that we would have to use this water.  I drank a large quantity of water and we all filled our bottles.  We were only able to stay on the beach for 30 minutes since I thought we would be slower walking back.   The return trip was at times pure agony.  I had to contend with sore muscles, fatigue, a throbbing foot, dizziness and 2 vultures who were slowly walking behind me biding their time.  My shirt now weighed over 10 pounds and was chafing with each movement.  Time didn’t stand still, it seemed to go backwards. …….. I was carrying Sandy now over my shoulders and dragging Kristen by the hand.  I would walk for 50’ and then catch my breath.  I had to fight now for each step up the narrow rocky path.  Every 10 minutes I would stop and pour additional water into Sandy and Kristen.  I would not take any water for myself until I knew they would regain consciousness.  I struggled on.  Finally we got back to the bus stop and we were able to return to our motel.  I had lost 10 pounds that day.  We were all tired but glad to be alive.