3820 meters up...

Hola, amigos! So...where was I...ah yes--so I stayed in a hotel in San Jose for a night, having planned to meet Garrison in the city of San Isidro to embark on an epic hike to the crown of Costa Rica, Mount Chirripo. However, I had received news from my taxi driver and then from the bellhop that the ginormous tropical storm I previously mentioned had caused a whole bunch of bridge washouts and landslides that had closed the Panamerican highway for more than a week (I think its still closed...). Side note--the storm (Alma), which was at one point classified as a hurricane, originated off the Pacific coast of Costa Rica, something that has never happened before (occasionally a storm pops up West of Mexico, but never this far south)...so give it up for global warming, amigos. Anyway, the road was closed, so the next morning, I looked at map, found a roundabout route along the coast and despite the hotels tourist information coordinators claim that that road was also closed, I eventually found out that the buses were indeed running (through Quepos and Dominical, overdeveloped somewhat dumpy beach towns) to San Isidro. I took the two 4-hour buses, which were so packed I stood in the aisle for about 5 hours. When I finally arrived, a Canadian named Steve and I found a hostel, and who should be coming down the stairs but my dear friend and Panamanian adventurer Garrison Loope. Success finally...but...then a random German backpacker mentioned to us that his taxi driver had told us that the bridge connecting San Isidro to the town where the trailhead is had also been washed out. Frankly, having come this far, we decided to ignore this until the morning, when the four of us got up at 530 am to catch the bus. Turned out, the taxi driver had been right, but another taxi driver was waiting at the corner who, after making some calls, offered us an alternate route that ended up getting us to the ranger station in San Gerardo by 630. Once there, we discovered, much to our surprise (the guidebooks say advanced reservations are necessary), we would be able to hike up that very day! So, after briefly despairing at the San Jose hotel and then another scare at the San Isidro hostel, it all worked out. Garrison and I stored some extra stuff at the station, he rented a sleeping bag, we bought 8 meals worth of food to pack, had breakfast, and hiked up starting at 9am. 14.5 km to the base camp Crestones at 3393 meters (a good way above treeline into whats called paramo), which we got to at about 245pm. We played cards and made tuna, tomato, and chips dinner (the store in San Gerardo had had no loaves of bread) while absolutely freazing our asses off. Then to bed at 730 so we could get up at 245 the next morning to summit Cerro Chirripo peak. 5.1 km to the top, got there at 430 just in time for a gorgeous, if bitterly cold, sunset at 3820 meters (well over 11,000 feet). We were surrounded by rocky peaks, small lakes, and scrubby valleys, and in the distance there were sheets of clouds hundreds of meters below us, connecting mountainside to mountainside. We could just barely make out the Pacific Ocean (on a clear day you can see both coasts). After that, we went on a leisurely hike through some alpine valleys to a glacial lake left over from the last ice age, where we had a little pb and j breakfast and took an hour or so nap. The rest of the day we spent lounging and playing cards, and then having another tuna and chips dinner while freezing what was left of our asses off. The next day, we thought about summiting another peak at 4am, but with snuffly noses and not-too-cold cozy sleeping bags we decided to sleep till 6 and then head down the mountain. At the bottom (after a few quetzal sonidos and many cool fungus sightings), we continued walking through San Gerardo, had lunch at the bank of this ginormous swollen mountain river (soaking our tired feet), and then kept walking along the 21 km road back to the big city of San Isidro. We got a couple rides in pickups (one with three little kids and a tiny puppy in the back who were all shy and giggly in the presence of two sweaty, bearded gringos with big backpacks). Once we got out of the rural mountains and into a pretty wealthy little suburb, nobody stopped for us, so we ended up walking 15 km down the road after walking 15 km down the mountain. Needless to say, my feet were a tid bit sore and wrinkly. The next day, we caught a bus to Dominical, where we body surfed until it started thunderstorming--so we ate tacos and I finally beat Garrison at Gin Rummy. Now, we are in a San Jose hostel, just got back from seeing Narnia 2 at the San Pedro mall. He heads back home to Nebraska tomorrow, while I take a bus back to Monteverde. This brings me to my very tentative plan for the rest of the summer, just so yall know...

Ill be living with my host family for two weeks while volunteering at the local primary school (where two of my sisters and my brother go and where my mom works cleaning). After that, I bus it up to a small fishing village on the NW coast of Nicaragua, where Ill be volunteering at Rancho Esperanza, run by a guy named Nate from Maine, working with kids and helping him start an organic garden (oh and beaching it hardcore). I should be home in Maine by the end of July for about 3 weeks to relax and tromp around in the woods with whoever feels like coming up to visit! Then back to long-lost Obieland.