Three Amigos and the Vuelta de Costa Rica

Catarata Llanos del Cortes – Boca Barranca, Costa Rica

I was on to something in the last post when I said Costa Rica was like the Switzerland or Luxembourg of Central America – I guess it is actually known as the Switzerland of Latin America. Probably for lots of reasons. The mountains. The prices. And maybe the fact that nature seems to predominate over culture. Of course, Costa Rica has the oceans and Switzerland is landlocked – so you can take the whole thing too far . . . But you get the idea.

Today’s ride started out on the boring side. Up towards the border Costa Rica’s Highway 1 is this big wide divided highway with a nice shoulder. It’s okay for getting from one place to another, but the road has no character, there are no trees around, and they must ban all businesses from anywhere near the road – because, unlike what seems like every other road in Central America, there is nothing on the side of the road at all . . . No one hawking coconut water. No tacos. No pollo. Just a generic highway.

I was afraid our whole trip through Costa Rica was going to be like that. It would be like trying to get to know America by driving on Interstate 35. You can see a little bit – but all the real action is taking place elsewhere . . .

Fortunately, all that changed quickly around lunchtime. 

To start with, I had yet another flat tire. The only good thing about this is that with all the practice I’m getting I can patch a tube and get us going again in record time . . . (We have new tires coming – but it won’t be until we get to Colombia . . . Have to limp along until then . . . Sad.)

Within minutes after this repair we start seeing CHIPS style motorcycles with their sirens going on the far side of the highway. Don’t think much of it at first – but after a bit it starts to feel like something is going on for sure . . .

And then there are a bunch of vehicles with fancy bikes on racks on the roofs. And a whole entourage pulls up and stops in the middle of the highway and pretty soon there are flutter flags a-flying and a whole little pop up village appears. 

We put two and two together . . . There’s a bike race happening. And within a minute the leaders are coming through . . .

They are several minutes up on the main peloton at this point. We know because we see the main group coming through as we pull off of the highway for lunch. There are a bunch of people crowded around watching. Very cool.

Later we figure out that what we witnessed is the Vuelte de Costa Rica. I guess this event has been going on since 1965! Pretty impressive. They will race ten stages through Costa Rica – finishing on Christmas Eve. Thinking today’s ride – which was about 120 miles – was pretty flat by professional standards. But I’m sure some of the later stages will be brutal.  

We looked it up and John Borstelman from the States won the stage. I looked him up and he’s from Nebraska and has been primarily a gravel racer. We’ll have to keep following . . .

Alright, enough on the pros. 

This blog is supposed to be about Diana and me. 

Hello?!?

We’re kind of pros at touring anyway . . .

So we pull up to a gas station for lunch – and there’s another bike all loaded up. Entering the store, it takes about half a second to identify our cycling colleague.  Spandex shorts. Older middle age – like us . . .

Pietro – Peter – from Italy. 

He’s taking about a month to bike from Cancun, Mexico to Panama City.

We join forces for the afternoon. We don’t need no stinking Vuelta . . . We have our own peloton! Pretty fun to do some drafting . . . Good day! Always great to meet a new friend. 

The riding itself? Super fun. Rolling hills with mountain views. We ended up “rolling” to something like 3,800 feet of climbing. Not a huge day – but nothing to sneeze at either . . .

Oh, and the other great thing that happened after lunch? Highway 1 shrank. No longer a four-lane divided highway, the road narrowed, became much more pretty, and all of a sudden we have services again. Coconut water stands. Furniture for sale. (Not that we are going to buy any furniture right about now – but it’s the principal . . .). Carnitas and Pollo places. Basically, we’re not on the I35 equivalent any more and there is actually some character and some beauty again. Admittedly, there is no shoulder and there are still a ton of semis – but everyone is going slower and it is just much more interesting riding . . .

Eventually we make it to our destination – which turns out to be Boca Barranca – and we realize that we have an added bonus: the hotel is right on the beach. We hadn’t even thought this was possible anymore. It seems like every time we wanted to go to the beach in Mexico or El Salvador or Nicaragua it was always an ordeal . . . Bike 11 kilometers away from the main road and hope for the best . . .

Of course, even being on the beach we had things to contend with . . . Turns out that the access to the beach runs along the Rio Barranca. The tide was low and we walked along the river to where it finally empties into the sea. We start walking out into the water when a nearby fisherman yells something and starts motioning for us to move over to the other side of where he was fishing. I thought he was indicating that we were disturbing his angling – which I thought was a little ridiculous because we’re pretty far to his left (toward the river), but we start moving anyway.

And finally I understand his sign language. He’s “clapping” his hands – but with a pivot at the elbows. It’s maybe not universal sign language – but in context – wading into tropical waters right next to a brackish river – it clearly means:

”There’s crocodiles in the water over there, dummy!”

No one has been eaten – or lost a leg yet or anything – but has anyone else noticed a pattern? 

We’re just maybe not that quick on the uptake on crocodiles and alligators . . .

Or, er, maybe I need to defend Diana a bit here. I might have omitted a little detail . . .

So when we’re walking along the river to get to the ocean Diana did say something to the effect of:

”Isn’t this the type of place crocodiles hang out? Rivers where there’s brackish water?”

”No, I don’t think they would be in here,” I say. 

Looking back, I can’t think of a single speck of logic or fact attached to my statement. But I did believe it at the time. Amazing how the human mind (or, at least, my mind) works – or, in some cases, doesn’t . . .

But all is well that ends well. Fortunately the fisher guy shared a little info with us and was smart enough to use sign language that even we could understand . . . So our arms and legs and torsos and stuff are all still attached.

On this general topic, we’re pretty excited for tomorrow. Geraldo, our waiter tonight, told us that tomorrow we will bike over “Crocodile Bridge.” 

It’s a real thing – it’s on Google Maps and everything. Apparently you can see about a bazillion crocodiles swimming around. But I guess it’s all good. You are completely safe so long as you stay on the bridge . . .

Hopefully Diana won’t decide that she needs to swim again . . .

And the next day we visit the most popular National Park in Costa Rica – Parque Nacional Manuel Antonio. I guess there are monkeys and sloths and all kinds of wild creatures there. 

Costa Rica may be like the 51st state – but it is one of the really cool states that everyone wants to go to – like Alaska or Hawaii or something.