100% Tico

Crossing the border into Costa Rica feels like time traveling forward one decade. The street dogs are purebreds and the bikes have disc brakes. Clearly, Costa Rica is winning the Central America development race.

Upon arriving at the border, a man selling cashews urged Ryan to stock up on nuts. “You know, these will cost you a fortune over there” he said as he fearfully pointed to Costa Rica. Fortunately, Ryan had already been tipped off and had loaded me up with several pounds of walnuts and almonds. Having three varieties of fancy nuts plus the requisite jar of peanut butter is excessive. So, we left the cashew man empty handed and proceeded caustiously into the land of overpriced nuts. 

You Shall Not Pass

If you grew up with The Endless Summer, you’ve seen the perfect waves at Witches Rock. The wave gets its name from the protruding rock formation in the middle of the bay. To get to this fabled beach requires either a boat, or 12km down some unforgiving jungle road. You know where this is going.

After stocking up with 6 gallons on water and enough rice, lentils, oats, and sardines to get Ryan through the week, we arrived beginning of the “road”. “Looks like you’re headed to Witches Rock” said the park ranger as we rolled up. “Yep, that’s the plan” Ryan said as he proudly pointed to the extra 50lbs of food and water. “We’re hoping to camp down there for the week”. “Well, the road is closed, but fortunately, you can camp here next to the park entrance” replied the park ranger, oblivious to the gravity of his sentence. “You’re kidding” Ryan said between gulps. “Afraid not. The hurricane blew down trees on the road and it’s impassible. We won’t open it for another month”. After a quick mental calendar check, Ryan realized we could not wait here for a month. Deflated and stunned, we rolled to the nearest picnic table to set up camp. “Wait wait, that will be $21 for the night” shouted the ranger. Of course it will. 

I’ll admit I felt bad for the guy. His heart was set on solo surfing Witches Rock, but instead he got an expensive campsite with plotting howler monkeys overhead. He briefly entertained the idea of waiting until dark and riding down the road anyway, but settled for self loathing instead. By the morning, the worst was over, and Ryan emerged from his tent with vigor and a new plan. “Hell with the Pacific, let’s go the Caribbean!”

Going Eastward

Going from the Pacific coast to the Caribbean is easy, which is why so many tourists flock to this country. “Two oceans for the price of one”, they exclaim as they whiz by us doing 120km, all while offsetting their carbon. On a bike, it’s no small feat. We climbed and battled an unfortunate combination of wind and rain to get to picturesque Lake Arenal. There we camped along the shore and enjoyed views of volcanoes and mountain ranges. 

The final 100km of highway to the Carribean coast was a battleground. Banana laden trucks made savage passes around corners, forcing oncoming traffic to stop and/or pull off the road. Guess how they treated us? Surprisingly well, actually. While they certainly made their size advantage known, the Chiquita truckers gave us decent space and a delightful tailwind. 

We arrived in the Caribbean just in time for Thanksgiving. While scoping out accomodations, we rolled past the home of a Long Island transplant, Rennie. From the hammock he hollered “is that a surfboard” and beckoned us inside. After 10 minutes of talking shop (waves, wind, waves) he decided we would be his good deed for the day. He took us in and put us up for the night. Northeast hospitality at its best!

The next week was spend lazily along the Caribbean coast. Ryan ate plenty of coconut flavored rice and beans, and surfed to his heart’s content. I stood guard at his tent and watched sloths hang out in the trees and sea turtles play in the ocean. Day after day the memories of our failed mission to Witches Rock faded and eventually were forgotten. Costa Rica has a way of impressing you at every turn.