Misadventures in Hiking
Misadventures in Hiking
Baurilio Carrillo National Park
I have fully explored the sprawling Costa Rican metropolis of San Jose over the past few weekends, so even this city-lover was able to recognize that it was time to venture out to one of Costa Rica’s famed national parks. I set out this Sunday morning bright and early to meet my group of friends at the bus stop. By bright and early, I mean I left my house at 5:45 am to trek to central Heredia. From there, a single bus took my group of five up into the mountains surrounding my hometown.
The bus ride only took about 40 minutes and dropped us off in a tiny town part way up the mountain. We had read online that we had a 5 km walk to Baurilio Carillo National Park, so we set off on our hike up the mountain to get to the hike we actually wanted to take. Never mind that the directory sign at the bus stop said that the park was 8 km away. No, we naively decided to believe what we had read on the internet and disregard the sign (I promise we are all incredibly smart. I guess we were just optimistic).
So up the mountain we went…
It started out well. We passed several cows.
Including this black cow that got pissed off at Ross when he tried to pet it. The poor thing just wanted to poop in peace. It was around this point that the walk became pretty difficult. Chloe (the one above with the brown cow) and I were practically crawling up the steep uphill as the other, more fit people in our group practically bounded up the mountain. Fortunately, Ross, Josie, and Melissa were patient with us, and allowed us breaks for water, snacks, and attempting to suck the essence of life out of my inhaler. I did my best to stay optimistic and enjoy the beautiful views.
UPDATE: I relayed this tale to my writing professor, and she was incredulous. The words “you guys are lucky to be alive” may have been uttered. Apparently this mountain road we were walking up is famous for rock slides, flash floods, and jaguars. She also pointed out that no one was aware that we were up here besides the vague idea our host moms had, and that we could have been screwed had we been stuck up there. Anyways, lesson learned. Continue on.
After about an interminable hour and a half of desolately climbing this mountain with no national park in sight, incredibly kind people took pity on the poor gringo kids and let us ride in the cab of their truck. It was during this ride that we realized that we were still NOWHERE NEAR the stupid park. Thank God for these nice people, or we never would have made it to the park.
I’d have to say my first hitchhiking experience was pretty great. The people were so unbelievably kind, they were patient with our broken Spanish, and we were desperate (or at least I was).
Unfortunately, even after these nice people parked, there was still a couple kilometers to go before we reached the park. I thought we were were never going to reach this supposed park. I was questioning life and the existence of this park as I focused on putting one foot in front of the other. My running shorts and t-shirt stuck to my skin from the heat and humidity, and my chaco-clad feet hurt from the steep kilometers we had already walked. The only weird reprieve I had from my dark thoughts was this man on a horse surrounded by dogs.
You best bet I pet some dogs. It was rejuvenating.
Then, finally…
We reached the park!!!
Over three hours after we boarded the bus, we made it to Volcan Barva and the National Park. I thought I may cry tears of joy.
The downside?
After hiking several kilometers to get here, I now had to endure the actual hike that we came here for. So, we paid our entrance fee, and after a protein bar, set off into the woods.
Coming from North Carolina, I’ve seen a lot of greenery in my time, but nothing compares to the lush greenery of Costa Rica’s mountains. I did my best to appreciate the beauty as I cursed hiking and walking and tripping and struggling through uneven terrain.
Then, we came across a Swiss Family Robinson-esque tree that we took a break to climb. We ended up being trend-setters and inspiring other hikers to climb the tree and get their photos taken. LIU Global’s resident photographer was on the case.
Peep me on the side being a terrible tree climber.
From the tree, we set out to find Laguna Barva, the lake formed in the crater of the dormant Barva Volcano. What a joy it was to find out that it was yet another 2 kilometers to the lake. Yay oh yay. Thus began another seemingly endless journey. Meter by meter, step by step, I tried to get myself to this lake. Chloe and I traded pep talks and complained together. A good ways in we stopped a lady going in the opposite direction and asked her hopefully if we were close to the lake. She laughed at us. So no, we weren’t close.
To further motivate myself to go on, I fantasized about the food I would eat when I eventually made it to this lake. Protein bars, gluten free cookies, tropical fruits. That did the trick, and I continued on.
And there it was…
Laguna Barva, the place I had walked and hitchhiked for hours to see.
This was a victorious group photo.
I admired its beauty for a few minutes before plopping down on the floor and enjoying a picnic with my friends.
It made my day infinitely better to be able to sit down and enjoy food with some of my favorite people.
And then, just when things are looking up, it begins to rain. No, not just rain, but pour. The blistering heat and suffocating humidity was replaced by freezing rain that chilled me to the core even with my insulated rain jacket. I morosely pulled the rain cover over my book bag, put my hood over my head, and trooped on back towards the park exit.
My own personal hell is a rainy hike.
Drenched to the bone, I walked on. I fell into countless puddles and often had to yank my feet out of ankle-deep mud. The chacos I was happy to have when it was hot earlier in the day now had me cursing as my feet were coated in thick, brown mud. I watched Chloe fall completely down after slipping on the slick mud and Ross almost take a loss on the slippery ground. We did our best to look out for one another in the miserable muck.
After making it through my own version of Dante’s Inferno, we reached the exit of the park only to look around frantically and hopefully for anyone leaving that would possibly take 5 wet, American teenagers down the mountain with them. No such luck, so we set out down the path in hopes that we would look pitiful on the side of the road and someone would rescue us. We trekked for about 30 minutes before we heard an engine behind us. A van.
Chloe stuck her thumb out with lightning speed, and we watched disappointedly as the van drove past.
But then, we saw brake lights…
And a kind couple and their young son let Chloe and I into their van. As they had the entire day, Josie, Ross, and Melissa walked way ahead of us, and Chloe and I managed to convince the nice couple to let the additional sopping wet teenagers cram into their trunk.
They were true life savers.
I was having what I described to Chloe as a “why moment” as I walked down that cursed mountain. Why am I here? Why does anyone go to that stupid park? Why am I not doing homework right now? Why does it have to be raining? Why, oh why? Basically, I was having a mental breakdown on the mountain, and these nice van people saved me.
Just behold the sheer joy in these photos. I am amazed at the kindness of these people, and the kindness of Costa Ricans in general. We tried to offer both rides we found that day money, but neither would accept any. I am not sure we would have made the bus back to Heredia that day if we had had to walk all the way down the mountain. With others’ help, we made it back to the bus stop with hours to spare. To kill time, we got some much needed hot food.
The cup of hot chocolate I had was divine. After escaping hell I found a little slice of heaven in the form of a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a bowl of scalding soup. Thank the Lord for the little things. We took the time at this restaurant to unwind, eat, thaw out, and talk through the eventful day we had. We marveled at the fact that we managed to one, make it to the park; two, actually go on a hike when we made it there; and three, make it back down the mountain in a torrential downpour of ice cold rain. Amazing.
After this we made it to the bus stop to catch the 5 pm bus back to town. When we saw that bus come up the hill, we all cheered. This was it. We did it.
Or so we thought. The bus driver decided he didn’t want to leave until 5:20, and so we waited another 30 minutes in the elements.
I sat like this, in denial as I stared into space and listened to my teeth chatter. We had made it this far. Why not wait another half hour? Also, check out that sweet bruise on my knee. What can I say? I’m clumsy.
Then 5:20 rolled around, and we boarded the blessed bus. We took the 45 minute bus ride back to process the overstimulating day and catch up on some sleep.
I was crashed out on that bus, and for good reason, because these were our stats for the day:
11.7 miles, 25,102 steps, and 121 floors.
Ugh.
When I finally made it back to my warm, cozy house in Heredia, my host mom asked me how my day was.
My response: loco.