Heather Hamilton

On 18th July 2020

Of course, no holiday is perfect. And so ladies and gentlemen, I give you… the not-so highlights:

Rocky Mountain National Park

Only included here due to my near death experience of having to cross a snow-field. Said snow-field was a real wow to look at from afar. Picture perfect with hikers photogenically dotted against the snow white backdrop.

Um, not so scenic when we actually got there.

The thin sliver of packed down snow that was supposedly the path across was way narrower than it should be (in my opinion). My fear of falling turned me into a hunchback as I painfully inched myself across, trying to keep my center of gravity low.

With the occasional mistaken glance down at the immense steep snow bank below and my heart in my mouth, I spent the endless time crossing wondering how they could potentially get a helicopter in to rescue me if I fell or if they would just leave my dead body down there, like they do on Everest. Luckily I didn’t have to find out.

Look closely and you’ll see two tiny specks, one yellow one blue: mountain climbers on a rocky crag way above that snowfield I’d crossed. No matter how extreme you think what you’re doing is, there’s always some nutters doing something worse.

Back in Estes Park having survived the day.
Those four beers on the right… mine, all mine!

Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park

Bit harsh to put this in the not so highlights section. But just to set expectations, this is no Grand Canyon. The thing with canyons is that it’s a damn long way from one rim to the other. Which means a minimum 6 hour drive to the other side if you picked the wrong side. On a driving day-off day, no thanks. Instead, we made the best of it with a couple of short walks and a bit of fishing. At which point Darren was reminded why it’s called fishing, not catching (i.e. no fish).

The Laundromat

You don’t spend three weeks on the road without going through virtually every item of clothing you brought with you. I was hoping for one of those service washes but sh!t out of luck. Nope: one of those coin operated places where you have to attend to all your own washing and drying needs. So I whiled away a few hours of the holiday watching our clothes spin round in a circle. Hey, at least they had wifi!

I audited my socks before and after the washer and the dryer,
no lost socks for me!

Boondocking

Finding the best boondocking spot isn’t always easy. It generally involves me being kicked out of the truck to go walk ahead and check, amongst other things, the state of the road and the options for turning around. Fine when all is well and good. Not so fine when the weather turns into a storm of biblical proportions and I still get chucked out to the elements.

When we’d set off earlier in the day, the sky was blue with a balmy temperature in the 80s. Not any more. I gave Darren a ‘you cannot be serious’ look and played for time, pointing out that my jacket was in the Basecamp and I couldn’t possibly go outside in a t-shirt. Darren produced my insubstantial cheap hoody from the back seat, raised his eyebrow and unsympathetically growled “Off you go”. Bottom lip out, I shrugged on my hoody, held onto the door tightly so it didn’t blow off in the wind and forged ahead to do my duty.

Note to self: hail the size of rabbit droppings hurts.

I was actually relieved when the hail turned to rain. But rain the size of rabbit droppings gets you very wet very quickly.

Sound on for this one

Luckily, the Basecamp is a great place to dry off and get warm.
When we woke up the next day, there was frost on the ground!
(and back to blue sky)

We didn’t appreciate what a cool boondocking spot we’d found until the next morning. A few puddles the only remnants of last night’s storm.

Mountain biking

I struggled around my first ‘beginner’s loop’ in Fruita. Not fast or clever – I could have trail run it faster. But I made it round in one piece. And was quite proud of myself to boot. The same could not be said for my next attempt. The ‘Trust Loop’ near Darongo. Sigh.

After a mile of negotiating my way around a rather nice suitable course (minimal obstacles, tricks and ups & downs), I clocked a steep incline up ahead and rapidly changed down gears to give it a bit of oomph. Unfortunately not enough oomph to get me up. Realizing I wasn’t going to make it, I started to put my foot down, at the same time realizing I was on an adverse camber, for which there was no way my little short legs could possibly over-compensate. Game over.

It’s a long way to fall from a bike. I saw the world whizz past me at odd angles and then “dufffff”. Upside down in a bush. Me, the bike and the bush became one. (I was still finding bits of sagebrush in nooks and crannies days later). Darren came rushing back to extricate me when he heard my yelp. Sorry no photos of me in my predicament (even though Darren DID ask if he could get a quick snap. Quite frankly, I wasn’t in the mood).

You remember that Fear of Falling thing I have? Well it’s not one of those things that gets better by facing your fear. However… this was a one way loop, and there was little option other than to carry on.

Confidence wrecked and one gear out of action from the first knock, I got little more than half a mile further before repeating another spectacular launch from the bike. Another shriek, another fall, another bush. I’m sorry but I’m just not cut out for this. A mountain biker I am not. A week later my bruises still make me look like a domestic abuse victim. Bikes are for bike paths and that’s the way it’ll be for now, thank you very much.

At least Darren enjoyed himself… once he’d escorted me back to Base

Colorado Vacation: The Highlights

On 18th July 2020

The main difference between our two week vacation and the rest of our trip is that this bit doesn’t involve working. Or not too much anyway. The rest of it is kind of the same… hiking, biking, paddling, camping, eating and drinking. Only now we get to spend all day doing it 🙂

Overall, very impressed with Colorado. Some of the highlights from our hols:

Rocky Mountain National Park

Hiking in RMNP was a high alpine treat, complete with a rather close encounter with a fat furry marmot (not quite a bear or a moose but I’ll take it). This was also our first real taste of snow. Hence the only entry to make it into the highlights AND the not-so highlights.

Also Rocky Mountain National Park, but a different walk the following day

Crested Butte

Cute little tiny town, they closed down part of their Main Street recently to allow for additional outdoor restaurant seating. Can recommend the Secret Stash pizza and also a place that does pasties, nom nom. Great hiking and bike riding right from town.

Great trails for hiking, biking or trail running – all with the iconic Crested Butte mountain as a backdrop

Plus one of the most amazing hikes we’ve done this year along nearby Scarp Ridge. I love the 360 views you get from a ridge hike and this one didn’t disappoint.

Ooh and Darren did a rather adventurous paddle down the Slate River at Crested Butte. Think shallow water. And rapidly moving water. And rocks. All of the above. Therefore also involved a bit of kneel down paddle boarding.

Ouray

Blasted through this town for an afternoon. Just time enough for a taste of the ‘Perimeter hike’. This trail skirts the mountains around the town, the entire time with a view down to the town encapsulated within a mountain amphitheater. Just gorgeous.

Telluride

Most other hikes we’ve done involved a 2 mile hike up through the forest to get to the more open exposed section (which is the bit where you start to get the views). Telluride has a gondola which gets you above all that. Not only that but a FREE gondola (the only one of its kind in the US). And from then on, views galore. And then there’s the wildflowers, OMG the wildflowers! I’m loving the wildflowers. Absolutely the best hiking so far.

When your hike starts with views like this, you know you’re in for a good one

And as I walked up the steep path you see here, the views kept coming

Very cool to see a family of coyotes frolicking on the ridge line up above me

So maybe they built up my expectations of the wildflowers on the photo at the gondola station. It wasn’t quite this, but still mighty impressive, and only me around to see them

Had a little rest and snack stop on the deck of ‘Alpino Vino’. Closed for the summer so no vino but nice view.

And according to Darren, some pretty good mountain biking too.

The bike gets the best seat in the house on the gondola

Basecamp time

So happy that we have our home away from home. It’s so damn cosy for those chilly nights and there’s nothing like beers around the campfire after a hard day’s recreating! Rustled up a few nice meals along the way too, even if I do say so myself.

Spacious site in the woods near Crested Butte

Camping spot at Estes Park, near Rocky Mountain National Park

Just chillin’ (and dreaming of catching fish), with beer and crisps

Harvest Hosts

Ah, gotta love the ability to stay at non-campground places that are happy for you to park at overnight with our annual HH membership. Our first on this trip was Mountain View Winery near Olathe, CO. So this wine region is no Napa Valley but what they lack in refinement, they make up for in rural charm. Not to mention the company of the four-footed residents. Old Seamus the 15 year old mongrel lab who may not be long for this world, a sausage dog with small dog issues, and Tiddlywinks the exuberant wolfhound, who didn’t think twice about bounding over the table where your wine is placed. A few near misses there.

Another Harvest Host was Stoneyard Distillery, Dotsoro, CO, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. They’ve got a good thing going as they have ample parking and allow up to four RVs (whereas most others only allow one). They distill from beet sugar, their concoctions quite unusual, and in addition to working our way through a tasting of shots, the proprietor was more than happy to rustle up a few cocktails.

Their most unusual spirit was still in the making. A jam jar of intriguing layered contents sat by the bar, with cacao nibs settled on the bottom, cocoa butter above and topped with a light coffee colored liquid. Turns out this is going to be a cacao spirit fit to blow your head off, with high intensity cacao flavor emulsified into their 176 Proof spirit. A whopping 88% ABV. Yes you read that right. We were treated to a preview taster by way of a pipette!

And a very festive game of corn hole, it being July 4th and all.
Happy Independence Day!

Frisco, Colorado

On 10th July 2020

We arrived in Frisco a week before our vacation was due to start – we weren’t here for a holiday, we were here to work. Ah well, maybe a bit of both, there’s time each day before and after work of course. And Colorado is on Mountain Time, an hour ahead of our usual Pacific Time. Which means we’ve got oodles of time in the morning to have fun in the wilderness, before the work day has even begun. Likewise, it means the evenings are somewhat short. But that just means we need to drink faster 🙂

Frisco is a cute little town nestled in the mountains, centered around a lake (actually a reservoir). The campsite is a couple of miles out of town, a picturesque little spot by the lake, with a bike path into town. As Annie said to Daddy Warbucks “I think I’m gonna like it here!”

All settled in for the week. This will do us just nicely.

So. The morning’s activities (before work I would remind you) consisted of trail running, mountain biking, paddle boarding and hiking. Not all on the same day. But we fitted in what we could.

Difficult to get my runs in, I had to keep stopping to take pics

Nice view from the peninsular on a morning run. If you look really closely, you can spot the Basecamp down there.

… And biking back to camp after work and brewery

For a couple of days, Darren even chose the SUP as his mode of transport for commuting to work via the lake.

He got some funny looks walking down the street from the marina to the co-working office.

Evening activities as I mentioned were time limited. But we still managed to fit in a little trip up to the nearby ski town of Breckenridge (they have a brewery AND a distillery!).

Broken Compass: One of our favorite breweries so far… some really good beers here, including a ginger pale ale and a toasted coconut porter

And not forgetting the nights we spent around the campfire, back at Base

It was around this time we thought a fun addition to our trip would be a drone. Fun to learn to fly and hopefully get some interesting photos and videos of our trip. Within two days, a Mavic Mini was delivered to the co-working space. Hence an evening of practicing take-off, flying and landing (lesson number one: do not land in long grass with the propellor blades acting as a multi-purpose strimmer. It messes up your new drone and quite honestly, a lawnmower does a better job.)

Yay, successfully managed to get a shot (and not crash the drone!)

Very hairy moment for Darren launching and catching the drone from the paddle board. But worth it for clips like this.

None of this would be possible if we weren’t able to work along the way. So the EVO3 co-working space bookmarking both ends of our Colorado vacation was uber-important. Having been office-based for over 15 years, this remote working was new to me. And in this COVID-19 era, neither of us really knew what to expect. But we had WiFi. Tick. There was an individual desk for each of us, screened off from anyone else. There were masks. There was very blatant cleaning going on, and often. Anti-bacterial wipes and sanitizing gel in abundance. And it was next door to a coffee shop that excelled in afogato, a shot of espresso poured over their home made espresso chip gelato ice cream. Good job we were playing hard as well as working hard.

Ah and I cheated and had a bit more time off than Darren. Packed it in with a pootle round Dillon Dam on the bike path. And an awesome morning’s hike up Mount Royal, right from town, up a big mountain, views back down into town, sweet.

Loving the aspens on the way up Mount Royal

Not a drone shot – the view from the top of Mount Royal is courtesy of my own two legs. For which I was rewarded with the last of my leftover homemade Spanish omelet.

And then get this… I was able to get an appointment for a cut and blow dry at a nearby salon. Five months of hair growing longer and lankier, it felt sooo good! Both me and the hairdresser wore masks, which was the weirdest thing ever. But I’ll take it. The New Me. Ready for vacation. 🙂

R-o-a-d T-r-i-p!!!

On 4th July 2020

Versatility. That’s the name of the game. There we were thinking a luxury cruise through the scenic fjords of Norway sounds nice. And then along came 2020. Flying to Norway not happening. Luxury cruise not happening. Time for Plan B.

We’ve not had much use out of the Airstream Basecamp in a while. Two week road trip it is then, in our self-contained corona-free haven. Versatile, you see! With still a lot of uncertainty in the US around what might be open, it seemed that National Parks and campgrounds were planning to open in June. What more do we need (well… obviously a few breweries would be nice, but we can play that one by ear).

In planning our route to Colorado, we realized 1,000 miles is a long way to travel before you even start your vacation, hence the idea of going a week early and working remotely (how different can working from home be from working from somewhere else that isn’t home?). And if you’re gonna tag on a week at the beginning, why not tag on a week at the end.

I’m in the very fortunate situation of still being employed. And just as our trip was approaching, along came an announcement that remote working was doing just fine for now, and we wouldn’t be back in the office until September. Wait, what? You could almost hear the cogs in my head turning. Provided we could work on the road, our 2 week vacation which had morphed into a 4 week trip could now be a 3 month adventure. Carpe Diem! Bring. It. On.

And then back to that question of what more do you need. We figured having the option to bike to work was a good idea. My hybrid road bike wasn’t gonna cut it and my beach cruiser, much as I love it, well those handlebars would no way fit in the truck. And not too many beaches in Colorado. So with just 3 days to go, we scoured the local ads for a second hand mountain bike for me. Found one, tried it out, nice and bouncy, job done – delivered the day before we were due to leave. Nothing like last minute plans.

Oh, and one more thing. I downloaded the One Second Everyday app so I can do a little video of our adventure. Hold that thought.

So while we’re on the road now already, it’s still early days in terms of planning. First week is in Frisco, Colorado, followed by 2 weeks vacation touring Colorado. Back to Frisco for a week and then who knows. Thinking north through Wyoming and Idaho, maybe Oregon and then back down through California. But we’ll see. Versatility is the name of the game.

In the meantime, here’s a few pics from the weekend road trip to get to Frisco, Colorado.

We like to mix up our camping options. First night was at a casino car park in VEGAS

Second night after a l-o-n-g day on the road, having passed through Nevada, Arizona and Utah, was at a truck stop in Fruita, Colorado

Make the most of the mountain biking pictures – there may not be many more. A converted mountain biker I am not.

Here I am taking my bike for a walk again

Day 8, All Good Things Must Come to an End

On 16th February 2020

Bike: 17 miles; Kayak 7.5 miles

Not your average early morning alarm clock, this one was jungle style, as the resident howler monkeys boldly announced the new day to the world. We roused to our last delicious campsite breakfast of rice and beans with fried plantains.

We were reunited with our bikes for one last session. Our final bike ride was all on dirt roads, so not what you’d call easy going but certainly the flattest terrain we’d encountered on the bike the whole trip.

Reflecting back on the changes in landscape over our journey, it was like traveling through the lands at the top of the Faraway tree (and for any non-Enid Blighton fans, I’m sorry, but you’re never too old. Read it now, you won’t regret it). After leaving the Pacific coast, we started our adventure biking and hiking through coffee plantations in the mountains. This was followed by a land of muddy foothills dominated by sugar cane, and we were now firmly in the tropical land of bananas. (They’re banana plants by the way, not banana trees.) With the odd field of pineapples thrown in for good measure.

Out of the four disciplines involved in this trip – biking, hiking, rafting and kayaking, I was most looking forward to the kayaking. Little did I realize when I signed on the dotted line, that the kayaking didn’t appear until the last day. Well we were finally here, and so were the kayaks.

The kayaks were double sit on tops, YAY! Today was not the day to play “wait for me…” singleton catch up. And my glutes gave a sigh of relief – it felt sooo good to be sat in a kayak instead of on a teeny tiny bike saddle for a change. As the minibus disappeared with our gear, we launched the kayaks one by one into the smooth flowing Pacuare river. This was (thankfully!) nothing like the rapids we had rafted through, just a gentle current to encourage us along. For over a week we’d been heading east, destination the Caribbean. And now we were…. Oh… So… Close.

We reminded ourselves it’s not about the destination, it’s the journey. And the kayak section of the journey was a treat not to be wished away. For a start, it wasn’t raining, 🙂 it was sunny with blue skies. And as the paddles quietly plip plopped into the water, we soaked up the atmosphere, embracing the tranquility. There were so many birds it was stunning to see – great herons, snow egrets, pink spoonbills, cormorants, pelicans, and many others I don’t even know the names of. We watched in awe as a flock of maybe a hundred birds took off at the same time, circling above us and escorting us down the river. Magical.

Fun and games fighting for space on the steep river bank as we stopped for an early lunch

…and on we go, destination the Caribbean

We took it easy but the miles flew by. As we stopped to re-group, there was an a-ha moment. That gentle rumble we could hear was none other than the waves crashing on the shoreline. The anticipation was building. We were within spitting distance.

We’d been warned that the river mouth wasn’t what you’d call picturesque. But nothing could dampen our enthusiasm. We beached the kayaks and took the last few hundred yards by foot, grinning from ear to ear. Woohoo! We made it!!!

Our guide Fez brought out the bubbly and $#%… whoah! What WAS that? Something along the lines of non-alcoholic blackberry-ish fizz (think cough medicine). Sparkling yes. Drinkable, errr. Not wanting to appear ungrateful, I balanced my plastic glass in the sand between photos and then damn, a wave came out of nowhere and drowned out the contents of my glass. Shucks. I glanced around and caught a wink from some of the others who’d had the same misfortune.

All that remained was a motor boat transfer to Cahuita. We relaxed on the boat, feeling the wind in our hair and checking out the crocodiles on the banks. Dare I say it even felt odd to be in motor powered transport, having only moved under our own power across the entire width of the country.

And then it hit us. Other than a little recovery time the next day by the beach, our epic adventure was over. We came, we saw, and through blood, sweat and tears (or hills, sweat and rain), we had conquered Costa Rica. The only thing still on the list was that damn adorable sloth we never got to see. I guess we’ve got a reason to come back then…

Cahuita national park, an idyllic place to catch a brief respite before heading back to civilization

Where there are rubbish bins, there are cheeky raccoons trying their luck

Maybe if we work as a team we stand a better chance

The big black howler monkeys with their distinctive calls are a sight to see

This was taken by one of our group just minutes after we left them. Well jell is not even close!

And before you know it, its time to celebrate new year (easy does it, early start for flight home!)

So long Costa Rica, see you next time… x

Day 7: Gimme Some White Water

On 26th January 2020

Rafting: 17 miles

After a full day of rest, we were chomping at the bit to go play in some white water. As before, our group was divided among two rafts: an American one and an International one. In order to balance out the numbers, we found ourselves in Team USA, unable to contribute much to the patriotic singing other than a bit of Star Spangled Banner.

Come on Internationals, give it a bit more welly 😂

Once again, we got a good splashing and soaking. Every now and again, one of us would get a face full of water, drenched by the brunt of a wave seemingly intended only for them. “Sorreee” yelled our captain from his perch at the back of the boat, with a cheeky grin that really said “sorry, not sorry”, belying his skill at controlling the raft.

Ok guys, time to dig deep, we’ve got a big one coming up…

Today was a full day of class 2s, 3s and … wait for it… 4s! It was on one such class 4 that things started to get hairy. I’m not sure if we took a non-optimal route, or if we weren’t paddling hard enough or fast enough, but somehow we ended up wedged precariously on a rock, water pouring in the raft faster than you could say Titanic. We were thrown from our perches on the sides of the raft into the “down” position, crouched over on our knees in the middle of the boat. This at least served to minimize the amount of water pouring in, as the boat was already full of us.

We could barely hear our captain’s commands over the rushing water, but there was a yell that sounded like “Move Forward”. While there were many commands we’d practiced as part of the safety briefing, this was not one of them. Like participants in a fast-paced game of Twister, we sprawled forward, placing a hand, a foot or a knee on any spare space of raft real estate, while our captain bounced up and down like a jack in a box at the back, desperately trying to loose us from our perch. The whole thing probably took less than a minute, yet took a year off my life!

And just like that, we were released from the rock, kerplunking our way down the rest of the rapid. How we didn’t flip is nothing short of a miracle, but having survived that, any remaining nerves I had were eradicated.

All that bouncing around is enough to work up an appetite. An offshoot of the river led us to a small beach, and as the group eagerly exchanged salty dog stories, the guides rustled up a tasty lunch. It was served up on one of the rafts upturned to form a makeshift table. Genius.

After lunch, you know the score. More rafting, more white water, more fun. We pulled in to the river bank once more to hike up to a waterfall. And if you go all that way, you might as well get in it. Forming a human chain, we hauled each other up and into the waterfall, the fast rushing water fighting to send us hurtling back down the way we came.

While my diving boots had served me well on this trip, right now it was like walking on banana skins. Trying to scramble over the rocks on the way back down, slick and green with slimy moss, became a five points of contact affair. Not a problem other than the grit and sand that accumulated on my bum, making the next round of rafting like sitting on sandpaper. Ouch!

As we left the hardcore rapids behind us and the river flattened out, I was coerced into doing a stint at the front of the raft. Definitely more exposed up there but great views! All in all, I’d have to admit I really enjoyed white water rafting 🙂 Might even try it again some time!

After a hard day’s paddling, we arrived at another comfortable river camp.

After hanging up our wet gear, we had the challenge of getting through the missing red wine from last night that had now turned up. But tonight’s main entertainment was frog hunting. Unfortunately, the iconic Costa Rica red eyed tree frog was nowhere to be found. But we saw countless poison dart frogs, their intense red color a sharp contrast in the green of the rainforest undergrowth. Along with camouflage style green and black poison dart frogs. Super cool.

Day 6, Just Another Day in Paradise – El Nido del Tigre river camp, Pacuare River

On 26th January 2020

Hiking: 0, Biking: 0, Rafting: 0

Call me lazy but my legs were so grateful for a day off. And what a super cool middle of nowhere relaxing place to hang out and do nothing. Not to mention the best night’s sleep by a country mile.

The main communal area was a two level pagoda. At ground level was a kitchen and dining area with bench seating, while upstairs was a chill out zone with comfy seats, hammocks and a great view over the grounds.

I had my first morning coffee in a hammock at dawn, listening to the birds brazenly announce their presence. And that was pretty much how the day progressed. I moved from hammock to armchair and back to hammock. Every now and again I’d feel the need to go a bit further to stretch my legs, but nothing more strenuous than meandering downstairs for another coffee, or roaming the grounds on the lookout for photo opportunities.

This being Costa Rica in the dry season, of course there were rain showers. But this was a whole different experience from being out there in the elements. I casually glanced up from my kindle, watching the rain pour in rivulets from the roof and here was I, dry as a bone and happy as.

Being such an active group, it wasn’t long before some of the Filthy Riders got itchy feet. While a few of us remained in the peaceful haven of the camp, the others went off for a swim in the river.

Nothing like a bit of current to make your swim that bit more challenging

And why not make up your own games to pass the time

As late afternoon turned into evening, there was a slight problem. The bottles of red wine we’d put aside for dinner somehow didn’t make it into the raft and therefore shock horror, no wine to have with the most delicious spag bol. Luckily, our guide Fez saved the day with a hastily rustled up cocktail of local sugarcane rum and some limes from a nearby tree.

Even the toilet looked romantic, it’s amazing what candles can do

Day 5, Pura Vida!!!

On 14th January 2020

Bike: 26 miles, elevation gain 1,850ft. White water rafting: 6 miles, grade 2

The demons of yesterday were banished as the mist in the valley lifted to reveal a glorious day. “Wake up, it’s a beautiful morning… feel the sun shining for your eyes…”. Back on form, I was a happy bunny as we cycled leisurely through picturesque villages and fields of sugarcane. The terrain was gently rolling, the roads were smooth and the traffic was sparse. With blue skies above and the sun on my back, my absolute favorite bit of riding so far.

All community centers have a soccer field. To see the clouds breaking up over this one as we rose was a treat.

And then we hit the busy main roads with the trucks. To be fair, Costa Rica drivers are the most tolerant to cyclists I’ve ever come across. If they beep at you, it’s a friendly toot to let you know they’re there, rather than an angry ‘get out of my way’ honk. After football (soccer), biking is the most popular sport in the country, so the drivers are very used to cyclists and tend to give you a wide berth. Good job the way I was weaving around in ‘Heather gear’ up the long drawn-out brutal hills, so cruelly placed when we thought we were in for an easy ride.

Costa Rica is world-renowned for its white water rafting and with a day and a half planned on the river to continue our coast to coast traverse, it was very much a key part of our trip. I was approaching said rafting with more than a modicum of trepidation. ‘Apprehensive’ and ‘wary’ don’t really cut it, terrified is a better word. I had visions of re-living my recent jet ski nightmare.

But it’s the funny the way the mind works… With all the rain we’d had the water levels were running dangerously high, and all rafting trips for the last few days had been canceled. Which meant it was highly likely that our rafting would also be canceled. There is nothing like the threat of not doing something to make you want to do it more! So just like that, the psychology of desire worked its magic and my terror was downgraded to apprehension, even hopeful anticipation. Maybe it was also the realization that the alternative would be more biking, my poor tender buttocks cringing at the thought. I was as delighted as the others to find that today’s break in the weather meant the rafting was ON.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that the ‘rafts’ were indeed rigid inflatable boats, with a front and a back and more importantly, sides. In my head, the word raft conjures up a flat wooden platform made of strung together logs, Castaway style.

We each donned a life jacket and hard hat, grabbed a paddle, and gathered by the boats for the safety briefing. We learned all about the Pacuare River, the different paddle strokes to use, and the commands the guides would yell out. Then came the bit about what to do if you fall out of the raft. Huh, but I wasn’t planning on falling out? And then came the bit about what to do if the raft flips and everyone falls out. OK, that sounds kind of extreme, really not very sure about this now. And finally, the bit about if you’ve been thrown from the raft and then somehow end up underneath the raft, unable to surface as the boat is on top of you. Aaaargh, I’m outta here, where’s my bike???

Luckily once we got out on the river, the focus was all on the team work required to coordinate our paddling and control the raft, rather than the what ifs. I don’t have a lot of core strength, or balance truth be told, but I kept my center of gravity low and wedged my foot into the boat as tightly as a cork in a bottle. The only way I was leaving that raft was if we ended up upside down!

I had strategically taken a position at the back of the raft, hoping to minimize the splashing. No chance, there was not a dry spot to be had anywhere. But if there’s one thing I’m used to on this trip, it’s getting wet! And once you resign yourself to a drenching, then the thrill of a steep drop, a churning eddy or a breaking wave becomes exhilarating. We careered down the rapids, mostly level two’s (I think one was a 2.6 but that’s about as much as they want to throw at you on the first day), doing high fives with the paddles and yelling “Pura Vida” triumphantly as we completed each one.

The afternoon flew by and before we knew it, we arrived at our campsite. Or should I say glampsite. It was like a little rainforest oasis, with spacious permanent tents erected on wooden platforms, decked out with thick comfy mattresses and pillows. Best of all, tomorrow is a rest day with no biking and no hiking and no rafting. And I, for one, don’t mind a bit. Bring. It. On.

Of course, no tent set up is complete without Filthy Rider gear draped everywhere

Day 4, Boxing Day. How Low Can You Go?

On 13th January 2020