The Bicycle Trip (8/20)

Nesting Sea Turtle

 The morning had started off well, family was rallied to awake at 4:45 a.m. and schlepp off to ford a river and hike down the beach in search of a turtle nesting or babies scuttling back to the ocean.  Within 10 minutes on the beach we spotted the tracks heading up from the surf and saw a female flipping sand about her clutch.  We watched from 15 meters back or so as she finished her work and made her way back down the beach and swam away into the sea. 

Kamilla and I had explored Playa Buena Vista the morning before, but this was the first time for Spencer and mom.  We walked down the beach and found a research station that was set up for the conservation of turtles and also to help in their recovery.  They often remove part of a clutch of eggs from a nest and then incubate them at the research station until they hatch 40 – 55 days later.  A man came out from the station and showed us a short video on an ipad of some babies that had hatched and been released in the last day or so.   

We had arrived back in our family golf cart by 10 a.m. and I was ready to get back out into the wild and explore some.  I’d just been reading about Playa Berrigona (where Mel Gibson has a house) and decided this would be a great destination for me about 7 km away, albeit with a few ups and downs included in that distance.  Did I mention this was our 26^th anniversary and I was planning to just leave Yvette with the kids for a few hours? 

We had previously attempted to go to this beach with our golf cart, but realized there was a river flowing across the road and turned back there.  Having watched a tractor and a man on horse back go across, I thought I could just carry the bicycle and continue on the road.  

Playa Barrigona

I readied the mountain bike and embarked.  The river was forded with ease and a few hills were climbed with less ease as I panted and sometimes pushed the bike up the path. I watched some animals, a Caracaras eating a flattened lizard in the road, and a hen with her brood scratching at leaf litter and grabbing bugs and enjoyed the constant chorus of birds and insects.   A few raindrops fell as I reached the beach and parked the bike.  The beach had soft white sand, a small river flowing into it, and some beautiful shells.  I watched the beach and watched crabs de-sanding their burrows… and scurrying with the surf’s rhythm.  I ate a few snacks by a little trickling waterfall as a light rain fell, and after an hour I was back on the bike heading back. 

Highway 160

The rain started to pick up and felt cool and refreshing on my face.  I stopped for a fruit popsicle as the rain started in greater earnestness, but this past after 10 minutes and I continued.  Vanity is such an interesting thing.  Two local ladies were chatting beside the road as I passed and one smiled and hailed me as though I was a cab and joked “Taxi!” (a motorcycle was just pulling up for them).  I laughed and continued, knowing they would probably come zipping by me any minute (they didn’t), I found myself not wanting to be found pushing the bike up the hill and that motivated me ¾ of the way to the top before I surrendered to my out-of-breath self and pushed the rest of the way up.  I was contemplating my pride as I listened to the howler monkeys above me and coasted down the hill back to the river crossing.  Unfortunately those few drops of rain at the beach had been evidently been heavier in the mountains.  The river was at least 2 feet higher and 15 meters or more wider.  The current was fast and rafts of logs and vegetation were rapidly moving by it.  The water was muddy brown and I pondered my recent knowledge and conversations about crocodiles in this river.  All cars and 4x4s approaching from both sides were turning back.  I called Yvette to let her know I might not be back on schedule and felt a bit stupid for not having anticipated this.  I had downloaded Google Maps for the region and could use this to see some alternate routes, I think the next best option would be about 40 km vs the 3 km that I had remaining if I could cross.   

Water level when I Arrived

The rain had stopped where I was, though the trees were still dripping in the breeze, so I waded through the muck and marked the waters edge, deciding to wait and see if the water would go down.

For an hour and a half I marked the water and explored a little bit continuing to see any cars turn back, and also to see that the river had gone down at least 1 ½ feet and shrunk several meters.  I pondered defeat and calling a taxi to take me the long way around with only a few hours left of daylight and my battery on the phone ebbing lower. 

Then a local man, Jonathan, came down on his one-speed bicycle.  He greeted me and looked at the river and asked where I was going. We talked a bit in Spanish.  He thought it would be about waist deep.  He started to take off his shoes and so I found my bravery in someone else wading into the river and we both shouldered our bikes and crossed the river moving downstream with the current at a diagonal and then walking back up once we had reached the shallows on the other side. 

I thanked Johnathan for his example and companionship, and we both peddled off muddy and barefoot towards our respective destinations.  I happy to be heading back to family with a story and a bit of chagrin for being gone 5 hours, and grateful that I wasn’t spending the night in a pension on the other side of the river, or sitting waiting for a taxi, or bitten by a large reptile or turned into a feast for mosquitos…  

Glad to be traveling through the world with Yvette and family and many kind people and benign bugs and critters.