Costa Rica pt. 2

Entry 17.

I woke up the next morning at 4:30 out of habit and couldn't go back to sleep, so I pulled out my computer and started searching for things to do around San Jose. I came across a company offering bungee jumps over the Rio Colorado. I called the number on the website and a sleepy woman answered the phone and agreed to pick me up at the Holiday Inn in 2 hours at 8:15. Four hours later I was clutching a pole and staring down 100 meters to the surging Colorado River, noting how uncharacteristically sharp the rocks looked. I took my last step up to the ledge and very cautiously shuffled forward until my toes were dangling off into the abyss. Hearing, but not computing, the last minute instructions, I thought about what I was actually going to do for the first time. It was terrifying; why do I always find the most extreme things to do and do the hardest thing possible, skipping all intermediate steps I thought to myself. I almost took a step back but somewhere in my racing mind a heard someone yell out "3, 2, 1", shit I thought, I didn't even heard 4 or 5. Then, "Jump!". And as cliche and dumb as it sounds, I blocked out my mind and thought about nothing except shifting my body weight forward.

The feeling of falling is like nothing I have ever felt before in my life. Fear and adrenaline raged through my body as I plummeted earthward and watched as the jagged rocks grew sharper and more defined. The free-fall itself only lasted 2 seconds or so and then the bungee tensed up rather sharply and I felt myself flailing around like a doll until I came to a stop. The tension in the bungee rocketed bridgeward again as I thought not again and surely enough, the stomach lurching sensation of weightlessness overtook me again as I tumbled earthward once more. This continued countless more times until I finally came to a stop and was able to take in the beautiful view as I swayed back and forth in the wind. I yelled out in joy as I clipped into the cable to take me back up.

Twenty minutes later after watching two more people jump, I found myself on the ledge once again, but this time two large, yellow bars filled my field of view. While the first jump had been with my feet bound and a swan dive into the oblivion, this jump I had chest and waist harnesses and I would be jumping backwards off the platform, "the elevator". According to the instructor this position invoked the most powerful, gut wrenching sensation. I tried to clear my mind while simultaneously remembering all the instructions, cross your arms in front of the rope, jump clear of the platform, let out your lungs on the way down, look forward, keep your body straight... A bunny hop later and I felt myself plummet downward once again. This time it was completely different though. My stomach was fighting my skull to let it out as I struggled to remember everything I was instructed. As the bungee chord tensed up, my stomach slammed back into place and sent it's contents halfway up before settling where it belonged.

On the car ride back, I was still jittery and then felt the adrenaline crash and to struggled to stay awake. I spent the rest if the day wandering around the surprisingly small downtown district and then returned to my house and packed for the next day.

I "slept in" and awoke at 6:30, ate, showered and took a bus downtown where I got a second bus for the 5 hour bus ride to the Arenal Volcano. Being a Saturday morning, the bus quickly got packed and after giving my seat to an old lady, I found myself squashed up against a window with barely enough room to breath.

When I arrived to La Fortuna I meandered around until I found a hostel for $14 a night. All my previous excursions had been to non-touristy places and I found myself overwhelmed with the amount of choices; hiking, horseback riding, canyoneering, rafting, biking, ATVing, or kayaking? At the same time, everything costed a mountain money and I was very reluctant to spent even one colon. I spent the whole night in the Baldi hot springs trying to chose, and after 4 hours I hadn't the slightest idea.

The next morning I rented a mountain bike and did a short tour around the town and surrounding countryside and then spent the rest of the day at the hostel with a Sweedish couple.

The next day I had myself signed up for a white water rafting trip that claimed to have level 4 rapids, I was dubious because it is the dry season in CR but the river flowed towards San Jose so I would be getting about a third of my 5 hour bus trip out of the way as well. The rafting turned out to be fun, not quite as exciting and intense as I wanted, but I think that's the best I could ask for at that time of year. As we were pulling up to the bus stop that the guide promised would take me the rest of the way to San Jose, the bus pulled up and I scrambled aboard. Soaking wet, shirtless, and with only one shoe halfway on I fumbled for my wallet and didn't even try to hide my accent as I asked the driver how much the fare was and sat down with 30 pairs of eyes drilling the back of my head.

Three hours later, after having the longest conversation of my life with Roberto, an illegal Nicaraguan immigrant, I rushed home to pack my things and said goodbye to Dona Vargas and headed to the airport for my flight to Mexico City.