“Groundhog day...”

Two days ago it was Groundhog Day. There aren’t any groundhogs down here, but I’m pretty sure I saw a mermaid out in the water. It saw its shadow and swam away, so I think that means 7 more months of summer for us. I’m serious about the mermaid. I don’t know what it was in the water while I sat on my surfboard at the edge of the breaking waves. It appeared for only a few seconds, about half the size of a seal, light brown in color, and definitely had a head. I didn’t get a very good look, and after the crest of the next wave obstructing my view passed, it had vanished. My only thoughts as to its true identity are either a sea otter, which I believe are present here but rarely seen, or a mermaid. I’ll let you be the judge.

Whenever Groundhog Day rolls around, I’m reminded of the Bill Murray movie of the same name, where every day he wakes up and has to repeat Groundhog Day over again. At first I never liked that movie as it appeared to be quite repetitive, but over time, as it played near every Groundhog Day since it was created, it has grown on me. My favourite part of the movie is when Bill Murray lets the groundhog that he kidnapped from the festival drive the stolen truck and proceeds to tell it to not drive angry. Well today we had some angry driving of our own.

With muscles feeling tired and weak from many days of surfing in the morning and sunset, we decided to skip a day at the beach and drive down to Cabo Blanco National Park. The fumigation of the neighbourhood that was also a kick in the pants to leave town as the thick acrid white smoke bellowed in through every window of the house. Cabo Blanco was Costa Rica’s first designated protected area, and until the 1980’s, no one was allowed to set foot inside. Today they charge a steep 10 dollar admission, which becomes reasonable when you see as many monkeys as we saw today. After travelling across the peninsula, and then down to the point and back across to the same side we started on, we arrived at the park at noon. The boy at the information hut informed us that it took 2 hours to get to the beach at the end of the main trail and 2 hours back, so we would not be able to go as the park closed at 4. I took that as a challenge, and we set off at a brisk pace in the 35 degree heat and 95% humidity. Those of you in Canada are well aware of the wind chill factor which compensates for the deathly combination of bitter wind and freezing cold to make the temperature appear even crazier than it is. There exists a humidex factor which works in the opposite way, combining temperature and humidity to form a new higher temperature or comfort factor. There’s nothing comfortable about it. Not being that familiar with the humidex, I have compiled my own Tyler Sweatadex factor, and today it reached 100%, or full shirt saturation.

Our brisk walk through the primary and secondary forests, as some of the park is reclaimed farm land which is just now forming young jungle, led us to bats, lizards rushing to duck and cover under every footstep, and two species of monkeys. We have encountered the loud and brazen howler monkeys many times by now on our trip, but today we had the privilege of seeing white face capuchin monkeys. We came across two that crossed our path on the way to the beach, and then a troop of a dozen more on our mad scramble back to beat the closing of the park. We made it to the beach in just under an hour and a half, leaving me time to walk around to the next beach over while Denielle stopped for lunch. The monkeys on the way back were very entertaining, jumping from tree to tree, lifting up leaves looking for ants and termites to eat. There were also several young monkeys hanging around, which were fun to see.

Exiting the park with a whopping 8 minutes to spare, we watched a couple of howler monkeys high above the entrance fighting in a tree. The rough road back brought us to an intersection with a sign for Mal Pais that would cut about 15 km out of our trip, so we gave it a go. I seem to remember renting a bike the last time I was in Costa Rica, making the trip from Mal Pais to Montezuma on this very road. It quickly became apparent that this route would not save time, but we attempted none the less. Five minutes in we were faced with a steep rutted out hill that could only be made with a healthy run in. We waited for two four wheel drive trucks to crawl down, then gunned the engine and roared up the hill, holding on for dear life. Lingering dust in the air from the passing trucks and the low setting sun were not our friends, making vision nearly impossible. Focusing on the steep ditches on either side of the narrow rocky road, we managed to climb to the top and start a fresh descent in first gear. This was one steep hill. I became a bit concerned, as any hill that requires first gear to descend tends to give you problems if you have to return back up that same hill.

Sure enough, around the next corner we come to a river running through the road. With the road turning in the middle of the river, our view of the exit was not available. We decided to turn the car around, Austin Powers style in the barely single lane road. With Denielle’s help guiding, we made a 12 point turn and tried our luck back up the hill from whence we came. With first gear roaring, the car skipped and hopped over the rocks and divots, slipping out here and there, but persistence paid off and we arrived back at the top. Now back at the intersection, we made our way back through Montezuma, only to try yet a different road with the sign Mal Pais indicating certain doom ahead. The main reason for trying these alternate routes is a short stretch, maybe 100 meters, of very difficult steep rutted out dust road. It took us two attempts during our last escape from hippyville. This new route was paved all the way up the steep hill, which we climbed slowly in first gear. Once on top the gravel and dust reappeared, and we raced towards Mal Pais. About ten minutes in I notice a steep valley approaching, much like the last river fjord that had foiled our route previously. Sure enough, up ahead lay about a foot and a half deep river, about 30 meters across, with no indication of bathymetry below.

Frustrated with the thoughts of turning around yet again, we raced forward in second gear. Surely with enough speed even the softest of river beds could be crossed by our mighty Matrix? A mighty wave of water splashed over the entire car as we met the river, and the tires quickly met sturdy rock below. A wave of relief surged through my mind, replaced soon with the fears of cool water cracking a hot radiator or engine block. But the Matrix persevered unscathed, and we arrived in Mal Pais with plenty of sunlight to spare.

Our time here in Mal Pais has been very enjoyable, as our own private house has been very luxurious. We have a black cat missing half its tail that lives in our bathroom during the day, and a very large spider that catches bugs all day outside on our porch. Denielle has also attended a morning yoga class a couple of times now with tales of excruciating stretching and breathing that leaves me no want to partake. Just last night, while reading an autobiography of Albert Einstein, a loud thud emanated from the window behind my head, much like the sound of a robin drunk on mountain ash berries in the fall back home. Part curious, part scared, I ventured outside to see what had struck the window. Sitting on the window bars there was the largest grasshopper that I had ever seen. Shaped like a leaf, complete with veins in the wings, this bright green behemoth sat there cleaning its antennae. I placed a Guatemalan dollar coin, the size of a Canadian Twoonie, underneath on the window sill to give an indication of size. We have just under a week left with all of these creature comforts before venturing north to the secluded beaches of Playa San Miguel and Playa Coyote before meeting up with Nicole and Skya whom are coming down for a visit.

Tyler.