Monday, October 27, 2014

No Easy Day

I fancy myself an adventurer and somewhat athletic.  But more and more I have the unfortunate habit of running into people who really are. Months ago, friends suggested I volunteer to ride as "sweep" for the 36 mile rocky, winding, singletrack Mountain Bike Tour of the White Mountains in our town of Pinetop, Arizona.  Asking myself the same question every delusional person does before doing something stupid, "How hard can it really be?"

Sky Island Woman and Glen In Bike Kit

After all I looked the part ....my new ultra-light carbon fiber bike with 29 inch wheels defined me as a 'weight weenie' - someone obsessed with reducing the weight of their bicycle (it's a lot easier to pedal a lighter bike folks!) .  And wearing those unflattering, padded black cycling shorts that are the only protection between your tush and your hard (but light!) bike seat.  I may have looked the part, but I know my place in this hierarchy of awesomeness and it was last....not just as a figure of speech - but officially last.  Being a "sweep" is all about being last; escorting and calling in for pick-up of stragglers and helping with equipment malfunctions - what can be so hard about that? 

There Should Be Vapor Trails Coming Off These Bikes!
 As long as I don't "biff" on the more technical parts of the singletrack.  Or go "endo" on the steep downhill or rocky portions of the trail if I have my weight too far forward or  apply my brakes too suddenly.  But I was pretty sure no matter what else happened that I would "bonk" (carb depletion) during the 36 mile singletrack mountain bike race that was starting in the next few minutes.  Straddling my bicycle and waiting for the starting shot way at the back of the pack... behind the hundreds of superbuff mountain bikers, I ask myself again, "how hard can it really be?" 

The Awards Ceremony I Never Saw 
 Very hard.   For someone like me who used to think   riding a mountain bike was hopping on my bike for a ride to yoga, or a mosey around the neighborhood, let me right now draw the distinction between the act of riding a mountain bike and the sport of mountain biking.
Riding a mountain bike is easy.  Mountain bikes are evolutionary improvements on paper boy bikes -  stable, beefy, and ideal for such outdoor sports as going to the store or returning a borrowed spice to a friend.

But riding up, down and around a mountain on a mountain bike is a difficult thing.  Mountains that look simple, solid and inspiring from afar look way different up close and personal.  The narrow tracks that wind through the forest just wider than your handle bars are daunting and mined with rocks, roots, loose scree and ruts.  The good news is that on a singletrack mountain bike race, your tiny world becomes very focused and you can eat as much as you want.

These Muscled Thigh Guys Are FAST
Hours later as I claw my way up the narrow winding singletrack well behind the pack I tell myself, "I am doing my duty back here".  I extend words of encouragement to stragglers telling them not to overextend themselves; no shame in walking.   Then I realize at this speed I might as well be.  My bike must be an engineering marvel to be able to stay upright at a shuffling pace.  Then, just as I am about to totter over from my glacial pace, the trail makes a steep drop over rocks and I hang on for dear life.  Although my mountain biking skills are not to be counted on, my bicycle is capable of saving my sorry self all on its own and bounds ahead over the toughest obstacles and rocks.   I literally study the ground ahead.  In theory the autumn leaves and forest views are awesome on this trail, if only I could risk tearing my gaze from the rock strewn path in front of me.  I am also on the lookout to make way for the serious front contenders I meet head on, returning back hours ahead of the stragglers.  MAKE WAY! Trails like this are the domain of muscled thigh guys with tattoos that read 'ANIMAL'.
 
After climbing and dropping through the narrow trails for six hours I get a call from the race organizer.  "We hear you are encountering problems out there.  Time to bring the stragglers back."  Inwardly rejoicing,  I describe my position and the organizer tells me , "There's a trail right ahead that'll take you to the bottom. It is about the same distance, but will take you off the side of the mountain and onto the forest road."   I'm all over that piece of wisdom.  I grab my "stragglers" and break the news that since the awards were given out two hours ago, no harm - no foul in taking the easy way back.  Quiet cheers of relief from all concerned. 
 
  
After seven hours in the saddle my husband Glen and our friends are waiting for me as we cross the finish line.  Everyone else finished hours earlier and they are relieved to know they won't have to search the forest for our bodies.
  
Like everyone who narrowly skirts disaster and lives to tell of it, I only realize what fun I've had at the end, while eating large quantities of Fig Newtons.  I would try to convey this happiness to my husband, but he is already talking about course and training improvements for the next year.  "Next year"? I ask with my mouth full of cookies.  But then I lean back on the grass next to my bike, content in the knowledge that I have accomplished something worthy.  Next year is really far off.  And after all, "How hard can it really be?"

Our Challenging Route Along Singletrack



   

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Off the Beaten Path In Costa Rica

              Sky Island Woman finds the REAL Costa Rica
Our keen "all natural" host
When we were picking a country in Central America to visit for an entire month we kept hearing "Skip Costa Rica.  It's expensive and touristy."  Well, in some places it IS expensive, touristy and full of gringos.  But there are ways to experience the best of this spectacular country far from the ziplines, butterfly farms and trip package tourists.  Costa Rica has plenty of less-traveled rural towns where you will never hear English spoken and the adrenaline rush comes from the intense, mind blowing beauty of nature. 
The Songbirds and Gardens Compete Mightily With Breakfast At Our Rural Finca
Glen and I have already been in Costa Rica for three weeks - no strangers to the intense greens, vivid birds, monkeys and wildlife.  But this is the first time we ever wanted binoculars at breakfast, distracted from our huevos rancheros by some of the more colorful of some 250 bird species found in this area.  This is how a tropical paradise would be if it was Photoshopped of any flaws and set to a soundtrack of bird calls and nature sounds.
Everything here is "issimo"




The gardens surrounding the lodge attract birds, butterflies and the occasional frog.
Our Finca Lodging - Oxcart Relic From Early Farming Days



You can see why they call it the Green Path
The abundance of birds and wildlife here is no accident.  Roger (Ro-her) and Rosie, our local hosts at Malekus Mountain Lodge have taken the spectacular “all natural ingredients” of Costa Rica to a new level.  They recently planted native trees with berries and fruit to attract birds, as well as indigenous squash, tubers, and fruit to serve at meals. This beautiful, friendly family is also lucky enough to possess and cherish a primary growth tropical forest which somehow escaped the handsaws of ancestors.  To allow guests and friends to fully appreciate the intense wildlife within the jungle forest, the family worked three months to build what Glen and I call “El Sendero Verde” or The Green Path.  When Roger and Rosie offered to take us we jumped at the chance.  As Roger strapped on a machete - “every paradise has serpents!”, we spritzed with bug spray.  We took off through their lush, private, jungle along a 3.5 km path hand laid from fallen hardwood tree sections.  With every step I pictured the hot, sweaty labor involved with constructing this one way trail through the jungle forest.  We found the Green Path an incredibly intimate way to get up close and personal with a jungle forest but not have any adverse impact on the environment.  In other words,  sneak up on any jungle critter who didn't clear out when they smelled our bug spray! 
Dynamic Rosie - Energetic and Great Sense of Humor
Naturalists at the nearby Park list 250 bird species

 Places like this aren’t found in guidebooks.  We were directed to this finca by a savvy friend who also prefers authentic, off the beaten path exploring.  He promised it as a “must do” and well worth passing up the gringo intensive tourist towns crammed with ziplines and butterfly farms.   No travel clichés here at Malekus Mountain Lodge, a private 288 acre organic farm and ecolodge nestled between Rincon de la Vieja Volcano National Park and Miravalle Volcano National Park.  After an hour’s drive from the Liberia International Airport we found ourselves nestled between the rainforests of the Central Highlands and the dry tropical zones of the Pacific Beach towns.  An ideal situation that offers plantings, birds and wildlife of both systems. 


These guys add a new dimension to driving at night

Roger and Rosie are the real deal; they love life and are passionate about keeping their finca and lodge authentic.  We felt enfolded into their family and wished we could stay for weeks.  Perhaps Roger and Rosie recognized kindred spirits because on our last night at the finca they took us up, up, up along a cleared, wider trail to their own personal “mirador” or lookout -  the highest spot on their expansive property.  In the light of the setting sun and a full moon overhead we could just make out Lake Nicaragua in front and towering volcanic peaks to the east and west.  With a cool evening breeze blowing on our faces, birds singing good night and two lovely new friends sharing their beautiful finca - this is the real Costa Rica.  We’ll be back. 
  Mountain biking is a national pastime here on
trails and dirt roads that see more cattle and horses than cars.  


This finca was the highlight of our month in Costa Rica.  If you are traveling there it is worth a stop.

https://es.airbnb.com/rooms/2778152?checkin=22%2F04%2F2014&checkout=25%2F04%2F2014&guests=2&s=CCXL#reputation-mark



   














Saturday, March 29, 2014

The Turtles Are Coming...The Turtles Are Coming

Early arrivals of the Olive Ridley sea turtle Arrivada at Playa Ostional, Costa Rica
We look out on the sea on this moonless night and with the help of sparkling phosphorescence notice dozens of little black heads popping in and out of the waves.  They are slowly but surely advancing our way, scattered along the horizon of black, volcanic sand.  A unique and amazing spectacle of nature -the turtle armada has begun.  


Mom turtles heading both ways - all exhausted at the effort
We found out about it from a local expat "turtle whisperer".  " The Arribada has started on Playa Ostional and you don't want to miss it. "  Literally translated,  Arribada means Arrival.  An Arribada occurs every month.  During an Arribada, in a single night anywhere from thousands to hundreds of thousands of sea turtles march heavily up the beach at high tide to conduct what can only be described as a mass nesting.  Arribadas follow a lunar cycle of 3-4 days before a new moon.  Countless female turtles begin congregating affshore several days before riding the high tide in to begin their nesting march to the same spot they themselves hatched years before.  Over the course of the next few days as many as 500,000 mother turtles will dig nests along an 11 km stretch of Playa Ostional, a short drive from our temporary home in Costa Rica.  


Turtles hatch 80-100 golf sized rubbery eggs two feet down.  No help from the Dad turtles - they stay out in the ocean
We chose to watch the turtles arrive at night.  We did not want to wait for daylight and chance witnessing the attacks on eggs and hatchlings by predators.  The law requires a local guide and we are glad we had Luis to help us find our way along the black beach in the dark.  It was eerie to have countless turtles silently and slowly make their way past us in the search for the perfect nesting spot.  Our own headlamps would have been useless - only official guides carry light on the beach and it must be red to not disorient the turtle moms.  



Luis, our guide, is part of a cooperative of over 300 families that watch over the turtles and try to protect them from predators.  It's a tricky situation though, turtle eggs are thought to be an aphrodisiac in the native culture and highly sought after by Tico (Costa Rican) men.  The local village has an agreement with the government of Costa Rica that allows collection of up to 5% of the first wave eggs (can easily be 850,000 in a large Arribada).  The later batches of turtle eggs are left to hatch and hopefully make it back to sea.  

Local culture has it that since females lay large clutches of eggs three times a year and male turtles overcome great adversity mating in the rough and tumble sea, turtles are sexually potent. Turtle eggs are highly coveted and bring big money to the village.  Called the "poor man's Viagra", a Costa Rican man will eat 3 turtle eggs and expect to perform that many times the same evening.  
 
  



These gals can be hard to avoid when it gets dark on the beach.  Moms with a mission bumping into logs and each other


As we watch, the beach becomes so thick with turtles dragging themselves up onto the beach to lay their eggs that we have to be careful where we walk.  These are Moms on a mission.  The digging of the nest 2 feet down and hatching of the eggs takes about 30 minutes.  After hatching 80-100 golf ball sized rubbery eggs, the mom turtle camouflages her nesting site by flipping and pounding sand over the area.  At the end it is impossible to say for certain where those eggs are hiding.  We were told that 45 days from now those hatchlings will crawl their way out and try to make it to sea before predators catch them.  It is estimated that only from that  At the end it is impossible to tell where those eggs are hiding.  We understand that 45 days later those hatchlings will crawl their way out and try to make it to the sea before predators catch them.  It is estimated that only one out of 100 hatchlings will make it back to that same beach 15 years later for their first round of nesting.  That is a lot of future nesting for a turtle that could live to the ripe old age of 65+ years. 


A clutch of hatchlings racing to sea and trying to avoid the birds and mammal predators.  HURRY little guys!!!!




This guy looks ready to take on the world!

Then all this quiet frenzy is over.  We are speechless at the specter of countless large sea turtles dragging their exhausted bodies back to the sea; each step a struggle, their bodies not designed for this terrain. Their flippers dig into the sand and push, inch by inch, towards the ocean leaving distinctive turtle tracks, but well camouflaged and hidden eggs two feet below the sand.  The poor moms look worn out as they take deep breaths and rest along the way back to the ocean. It’s taking every last bit of their energy to return home.  We would love to assist but let nature do its thing.   
As much as we detest the thought of eating those eggs that turtle mom worked so hard to deliver, the bargain that has been struck between the Costa Rican villagers and "their” turtles insures that this grand spectacle of nature will go on into the future.
Location of our Nosara rental casa and the turtle beach 12 km north