Costa Rica Retroactive Diary: Day 9

Just being thankful to not be face down and buried on some kook's land

Had an awesome day. Woke up. Slept in. Took a hike down to the swimming holes on the side of the mountian. Got in and got refreshed–energized. The whole town has a magical feel to it. Evenings remind me of nights spent in Berkeley, waiting for the fog to roll in. Such great energy.

The whole time I’d been here I kept hearing about this cloud bridge area–that immense waterfalls could be seen from a bench. So I decided to check it out. On the way up I ran into two Krauts from Germany who were hiking the same way.

A couple of people at the hostel questioned my desire to leave so late in the day. True there was little daylight, but I had been told that it was barely 1.5 kilometers away. Surely I could make it there and back before daylight left us.

I urged the Germans on away we went. We walked up the mountains as the fog followed us up. The light was slipping away and as we passed a stray calf on the road, the Germans said they thought it’d be safer to go back. “alright pussies.” I thought.  “See ya back at the hostel.”

I picked up a thick branch about five feet long which served as a good hiking stick and kept going.  Things got spookier the higher I ascended.  The jungle was quiet but I could sense things waking up around me.  I found a labyrinth off the path and checked it out. This cost me some more time and by the time I found my way out of it, I realized it was too dark to see a waterfall or a Cloud Bridge and that my best bet was to go back downhill before it got too dark. I had a flashlight but I didn’t want to take any chances.

On my way back I ran into this cat from Santa Cruz who spent time between Costa Rica and California. We rapped for a minute and he invited me to check out his house he and his girlfriend were building.

It was cool to see this dude explain to me where everything was going to be and which room was where. We got high in what was the living room. He was building it all himself with the help of some people around town. I was certainly impressed. After having a toke of some of Cali’s finest, I could tap into the mystical consciousness of the mountain. This was truly a magical place.

We got back on the path and it was now pitch black. It was only 5:30 pm at this point. Santa Cruz’s wife to be met us at the pass and chastised her man for running off without telling her. She was freaked out. The missing hiker had everyone on edge.

I was alone and in the dark. A doberman came to the edge of the grass and snapped at me. I screamed in terror, weilding my stick as a defense weapon. My adrenaline shot up to an incredible amount and soon I was on the alert for anything that could be on the path. I knew the elevation was to high for snakes but I’d heard there were pumas about and other creatures–and who was to say that another dog couldn’t creep up and give me a tussle.

I finally made it back to the hostel and let out a mighty yell. “WHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOO” I’d never been this hype before. Not from watching sports not from playing sports, not from winning PS-2 Madden or College Football.  I was juiced. It was by far my most terrifying experience to date. The jungle takes on a different feel at night and I felt lucky that I wasn’t chow for some animal. I could have easily been the main course with one slip up. Life indeed is very fragile–even more so when you become part of the food chain again. Man was simply a weakling with big brains among all the powerful creatures in the world. How did our species survive so long?

The rest of the night was a breeze after that. Some new people came into the hostel: A guy from Fayeteville, Arkansas, a Czech from Madison with her mother, a little red bearded fellow from Madison, an Asian dude from Brooklyn, and a guy from Santa Rosa. We all went to go and get drinks at the Rocadorro where I narrowly escaped food poisoning.  We watched futbol and dank shots. I was loud and obnoxious and funny (basically a typical Texan).

The walk up was pleasant. We ascended as a big herd and no sense of danger was felt at all. Frontier Bobby had survived another day. I planned to wake up early and check out that waterfall before catchign a ride with Jill (the owner) down to San Isidro to attend the farmer’s market. Before I went to sleep that night I forced myself to embrace the present I had purchased for myself.

Such vast beauty before my eyes. All for me. Again I was glad I had listened to my inner voice. Happy 32nd birthday motherfucker.  This was all for me.