GETTING THERE
7/8-7/9:
Making the 6 a.m. bus for Montezuma was, in itself, a full-fledged miracle. Thursday night entailed hours upon hours of dancing at Bar Nena amongst tons of Ticos and at least 20 other volunteers from Maximo Nivel. Once two a.m. hit, we woozily decided our chances of catching the 6 a.m. bus, unlike a fine wine, would not increase with time. So we left.
I’d prepared by setting my morning alarm before we even left for the club. When I got home I decided that I was a fantastic last minute packer and would, therefore, wait until 4 a.m. to begin that process.
Then 5:24 a.m. rolled around. I awoke to Carmen shaking me while pointing to the clock. I accidentally set the alarm for 4 p.m.– typical. Not only should we have been awake by this time, but we also should have been in a taxi en route to San Jose.
By 5:31 I had somehow gotten out of bed, packed everything I needed (except for a towel- which I later found out the hard way) and made it into the taxi. We were then magically and nauseatingly whisked to the San Jose bus station by 5:47 -- just in time to take our seats as the bus pulled away at 6 a.m. That taxi driver got a nice tip.
ARRIVAL in MONTEZUMA
7/9:
We hadn’t preplanned our living arrangements- we just planned on beachfront shopping for a cheap hostel. In search of such a place, we ended up making friends with a girl from Germany, Svenja, who accompanied us to the Moctezuma Hotel. We got a better price for having three people. (Side note: $13/night beachfront room with the ocean breeze sifting in through the window.)
THE LOST GIRLS
7/9:
My pre-planned goal and gift to myself was to take as many extra-spontaneous hikes through the rainforest as possible. This year, I got just what I wanted and much, much more.
Figuring we had until nightfall for the rest of our friends to arrive, I decided it was the perfect time to start showering myself with mud-caked gifts. Kelly and I set off to a waterfall supposedly a short distance away. We figured we’d be gone for two hours at most.
Six hours later we were…. Misplaced.
From the beginning we followed a dirt road between the ocean and the rainforest. Still following a dirt road 20 minutes into the hike, boredom ensued. While the path provided a gorgeous view, it certainly didn’t yield any sense of spontaneity. Deeming it appropriate to trash the map and take the first available turn into the rainforest, I found myself limbo-ing underneath a barbed wire fence onto a questionable path (which was about the width of my foot).
After more than a half hour, we reached the top of the steep mountain path. Peering over the edge, we discovered the breathtaking aerial view of the ocean from the cliff-side of the mountain. From there, we took a right on a narrow path that provided no sign of recent travel. We reasoned that it would certainly lead us back on a more exciting path.
A few hours later I had 20 more bug bites (of course I left the repellant at home), a puncture wound from a spiked tree that was out for blood, a six-pack and a big smile on my face. Sure it wasn’t mapped out--- but that’s why I loved it, that WAS the fun.
**One of the many killer trees. They're out for blood.**
By the time nightfall hit, we had:
-Followed the sound of running water to the river (where we ate the last of our apples, filled up on water and, in hope of finding the source of some distant music we heard, climbed up a moist mass of rocks where a waterfall used to run-- since following the river to the ocean could have taken til morning).
-Annihilated a barbed wire fence on a large, assumedly abandoned property that was also guarded by an elaborate gate (yet there was no house to be found).
**Barbed wire fence.**
**Nice gates, no homes.**
-Found another gated property, which housed a picnic-grove-like shelter. Here we found a small family all huddled on a hammock silently cradling a baby. After getting over the initial spookiness, we asked how to get to Montezuma. All we got out of them was “derecho” and “PROMENADE??? NO CAR? Ohhhhhhhhhh no.” We named them The Village People, because were degrading.
-Acquired a Rottweiler at a house straight out of a horror film (it was the only house elevated on a huge hill. It had no cars, people or signs of recent residency. It was painted all white with a lone set of red cement stairs that led up to an eerie sort of open patio which had beautiful view of the forest and sunset). We approached the house and the dog was barking loudly and growling. We decided to use the “just don’t look scared and he won’t care” routine. Then the dog charged after us… we stood still… he leaped on us and licked us *major relief sigh. * He joined us the rest of the time as our guard dog. We named him Doug, because he was a big silly oaf, like the dog from “Up”.
With Doug by our sides, the moon over our heads and village people and broken fences to our backs, Kelly and I continued down the road we found looking for more signs of life. Though we felt safer with Doug, we were still eager to find our way back.
We wandered past a few more deserted lots and empty houses under the moonlight with Doug before discovering a property absent of fences and barbed wire that housed real, live people.
There were 5 men outside. So, we hoped for the best while approaching them with our newly acquired guard mutt. We asked if they spoke English- they did. We told them our story- they stared in amazement, sizing us up and laughing. We asked if we were far- they laughed again. We were very far. We asked if we could call a taxi from their phone. Instead, they offered a ride. By coincidence, their daughters we’re headed to Montezuma.
The car ride back was long, the night was dark, the adventure was great, and we made it back before our friends even arrived. It was the best birthday hike I could hope for.
FALLING WATER, HIDDEN… DEATH??
7/10
Though the following day was not nearly as spontaneous and nerve-wracking, it was equally as fun and adventurous.
The previous day, we never made it to the waterfalls, despite our valiant efforts.
Today, we would hike with a sense of purpose. And more peanut butter sandwiches.
We followed a small path that led us across mountainsides and cliffs to our destinations.
The first waterfall (in a series of three) stood the tallest at 80 feet. We were able to swim in its pool and slip behind its forceful stream. Once we were satisfied, and almost drowned, we proceeded up the mountain to the second waterfall that was directly above the first.
**The first waterfall in the series of three.**
**The top-most waterfall.**
Though we accidently missed the path to the middle waterfall, the topmost waterfall had a view of the middle waterfall. It also had a rope swing into its pool and an easy jumping spot off of the small waterfall.
Initially, I’d planned to only swim a little bit, because I was waterfalled out.
But swimming led to rope swinging.
Rope swinging led to jumping off the smallest, topmost waterfall at about fifteen feet.
That leap led to climbing the tree that the rope swing hung from and jumping from there, probably about twenty-five feet.
That chest-thumping, Tarzan-like hurdling led to me standing at the top at the middle waterfall, shaking like a little girl, trying not to pee myself while peering over the edge to the 40 foot pool that lay below me. Heart pounding, brow sweating, friends egging I kissed my own ass goodbye and leaped, screaming the whole drop. I made it, gasping for air and cheering both for fun and for gratefulness.
CAPPING OFF THE WEEKEND:
7/10
Hopeful adventures checked off our list, we joined some Utah-ians that we’d met the night before in their excursion to a nearby concert. The concert, put on by local school children, featured orchestral performances, song and dance. The proceeds benefited the kids’ school and music program. They were adorable, but absolutely terrible. The experience was wonderful and hilarious.
**The dance part of the performance.**
The weekend was successful: good times, spontaneous adventure and great company.
sounds like a terrific birthday!
ReplyDeletethat sounds really really awesome, im glad you are having a good time!
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