Day 3: Guayabal to Colorado

I found my mojo today. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the first two days of the trip. But it lacked the excitement and feeling of adventure that typically comes along with these trips. Not sure what the thing was. It’s not been the greatest start to a year in my life, so maybe it just took a little time to let that go for now. Anyway, it’s good to be excited and totally in the moments.

I woke up at 5 (!!!) this morning to the sounds of howler monkeys. So howling, basically ;). The downhill that started the day was brief and at some points extremely fast. At other times, not so much because the roads are inconsistent and you never know when you’re going to hit a big rock or a big pothole. Anyway, not struggling so hard against gravity was a pleasant change of pace (literally).

There was a section described in the documentation as “fun volcanic rock riding”. Matt has an interesting idea of what fun is. Tougher than anything I’ve ever rolled tires over by far. I walked most of it.

Stopped in Bagaces for some lunch. This is where the excitement set in for whatever reason. Shared some bakery treats with a pup who didn’t make it in the photo. The bumpy roads destroyed my corn tortillas so I bought some flour ones here. Apparently flat flour bread discs aren’t tortillas here, they’re rapidos. This is cultural immersion folks.

After that it was flat, bumpy riding through shadeless and treeless farmland. In 35 degree temperatures and a relentless headwind. I love riding a bike, less so very specifically in flat hot windy boring farmland. This was basically the Costa Rican equivalent of north of Brampton. Not my fav.

Stopped again in the first bit of civilization after that for sanity and something cold. Got a coke and popsicle from a mini super and sat outside on a bench and baked for 20 minutes. The sugar just about made me sick on the spot, so hot I was. There were two explosions while I sat and roasted, no one on the street batted an eye. Maybe I hallucinated it.

From there it was about 2 hours to Colorado. The route turned so I wasn’t riding into the wind anymore and that did wonders for the riding conditions. When I arrived at the one place with cabinas in Colorado I was told it was full and was given cold water and a slice of watermelon as consolation. No campgrounds in the area either but I was pointed to more cabinas 5 km outside of town.

The Blue Parrot is owned and built by a retired Argentinian who constructed houses in the Hamptons for the ultra wealthy. According to him, the kind of people who, when you say that’ll cost 5 million (1990s pricing), reply my secretary will write you a cheque.

They are nice little buildings and I am not above admitting I’m going to use the AC tonight. He asked if I wanted to buy the place. Problem is, I don’t have a secretary to write the cheque.

Also, this place is 5 km from the beach. It was completely empty.