Day 3 (In which I have the best Father’s Day that I will ever have in my life.)

Day 3 (In which I have the best Father’s Day that I will ever have in my life.)

The sun is at full attention at 5:49 in the morning. The hastily re-scheduled zip-line adventure outfitter is called “Extreme Adventures” and is very close to our hotel according to the standard issue caricature map featuring local hotels and restaurants which you can find in any city which fancies itself a tourist destination. We simply turn left out of the resort’s parking lot, pass the boat catching a swordfish and the two bikini clad women playing volleyball, and when we get to the family of howler monkeys wearing T-shirts make a right and we are there.

The caricature map did not convey the poverty in the area around “Extreme Adventures” headquarters. On the map, it was located right next to “Papagayo tours”. Both companies were in fact in the same front room of someone’s house. It dawned on me that all of tour companies in the area were not completely independent businesses, but more like a network. A company would splice together whatever you wanted to do out of what they had available to them. 6 different companies might advertise canopy tours, but they might all take you to the same ziplines.

Papagayo tours and Extreme Adventures shared a fleet of ATVs. Our contact at Extreme Advenutres took us to one of the neighbor’s houses where a couple of Ticos were saddling up three horses. The guy who seemed to be in charge of the horses told me that he was going to be riding bulls in a rodeo later that day (I think.) The horses did not look like the robust steeds that we had seen at farms or circuses in America, but by this point a) we had paid to ride horses b) the only person who spoke English was back at the office c) Isaac was already mounted and d) the remaining caballeros assured me that the white horse was very strong and could carry me. (I told them in advance how much I weighed and how tall I was in case they were worried about the horse. Their response? “No problem”)

Our guide, who spoke no English at all, led us down the narrow two lane road that we had previously gotten lost on looking for “Extreme Adventures”. We passed where the pavement ended and a group of locals hung out at a dusty turn around waiting for the bus. Our guide led Isaac’s horse and Nancy and I did our best to negotiate with our steeds to follow as closely as they were cool with….if they want to stop and eat some leaves, that is cool too….you know….whatever. We learned some important facts about native flora that none of us could understand since they were in Spanish. We smiled and nodded politely while we tried to get our horses to get back on the path.

We wandered through some back country and plodded through some streams. I would love to tell you about the magical bond I developed with the animal, but it was more of a magical tolerance. For the short period of time that we rode, I definitely understood how riding horses could become someone’s obsession in life.

The ATV training consisted of pointing to the key, the gear shift, the accelerator, and a reminder to brake with front brakes when going uphill, back brakes when going down (or was that the other way around? And which is the front brake? Left or Right? We will figure it out on the way I guess.)

Isaac rode on the lap of our guide while Nancy and I each rode our own 4 wheel All Terrain Vehicle. It took much less than an hour for me to grasp the mystical bond between a rider and his ATV. We basically lived in a truck commercial for an hour. We climbed hills, rode through streams, crossed farm land, and explored the dirt roads in small villages. We drove past an open air church that was holding Sunday morning worship. Nancy and I felt bad that we were making so much noise while someone else was having church.. I am pretty sure that the guide told us not to worry, they weren’t Catholic; they were Evangelical.

Another interesting thing about riding ATVs in Costa Rica is that howler monkeys seem to really hate the sound of their engines. The only thing louder then the ATV engine is a group of howler monkeys yelling at you when you drive past. If you have never heard a howler monkey before it is a sustained loud deep grunt and whoop that will definitely get your attention.

After an hour ride, we made it to the Congo ziplines (Congo is a local name for the howlers). We rode with a couple from Dallas and two Tico boys who were on vacation. The zip lines were impressive but the views were spectacular. I have to say Congo had the business of throwing Gringos out of trees down to a science complete with bathrooms and water coolers out in the woods.

It took another hour to ride back. When we were almost back to the car the guide said, “We can go the short way, or over the mountain.” We were all tired, but to my surprise, Nancy opted for the “over the mountain” method and we back riding through creeks and up and down muddy, rock strewn ravines. It was wildly fun and terrifying at the same time.

We arrived back at the hotel and while Nancy read her nook, Isaac and I fell asleep watching Lucha Libre wrestling and 80’s comedies dubbed into Spanish.

Strength and Honor
Big Matt