“A bicycle built for two...”

Whenever I hear of a bicycle built for two, I think of the Muppets movie, in which Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy are riding a bicycle built for two through central park. The bicycle that I rented was originally designed for one, but apparently yearned to be two, as it fell apart piece by piece throughout our journey. Our week had been very enjoyable, with Sky and Nicole coming in to meet with us on Sunday in Santa Teresa. Two days ago we rented bicycles to ride along the beach at low tide up past Manzanillo to a river that may have crocodiles to see. The bikes we rented looked to be in great condition, a couple of fancy beach cruisers, complete with front baskets and kick stands. The terror began almost immediately.

Skya had rented an amazing house at the north end of Santa Teresa for the week, a very large, luxurious place high atop the hill with a great view of the ocean. It also happened to be up the steepest gravel dusty road known to man. While the car was just barely able to make it after a couple of attempts up the steep driveway, the single speed beach cruiser bikes tempted like sweet siren songs to try and ride down this precipitous road. Now, on a normal bike, this endeavour would not have raised a single concern, as front and back brakes would surely guide all but the most timid down the loose gravel slope in one piece. The beach cruisers however, had no brakes, except for the act of pushing backwards on the pedals. The siren songs won out, and soon, loaded with 10 pounds of water in my basket and a heavy backpack with more on my shoulders, I mounted this shiny red beast and started the descent. Just a quick movement of the feet to engage the brakes and nope, we’re pedalling forwards and out of control. My eyes darted to the side of the road for a place to gracefully crash uphill, but a deep cut ditch soon thwarted that plan. I would have to make the next corner and try to adjust my feet once I had gained control on the straight.

The pedals flipped around and I jammed my foot down hard, locking up the back wheel, skidding to a nice barely in control stop at the next corner. Catastrophe averted, for now. Skya managed to navigate down the entire hill without incident, and the two ladies walked their trusty steeds down to the paved road. A quick turn down a path brought us to the beach at low tide where we really opened up the speed of the cruisers. Weaving in and out in formation around the pebbles and stones on the beach with the wind in our hair, we were on our way. These things really moved, but if I were to have only one gear, it would surely be easier than this. With a seat that only raised so far, my lanky legs were stuck between 80 and 110 degrees, insufficient to harness the full potential of the big gear. Our quick pace soon slowed as the beach turned into raised rocks and mushy sand. We decided to take the road for a while until we found more hard packed sand. Water weighed heavy on my front basket, and my front fender had taken to rubbing on the wheel. Annoying as it was, the rubbing did not seem to be slowing me down much, so I pressed on. A little while later all hell broke loose. Coming down one of the rocky hills with some speed, suddenly my front tire locked up. My sweaty hands were incapable of maintaining grip, so my hands slid down the handlebars to the stem. Now completely out of control with a front tire locked up, I slid all over the road, all the while wondering where I was going to crash. I managed to hold on hard enough at the bottom of the handlebars to engage the brake. With both wheels locked up, I quickly came to a stop. But the fender had to go. The nut had fallen off the back after being bombarded by ten pounds of water on every bump in the road.

The heat and effort was taking its toll, so we took a break for a while in the shade and had some snacks, some avocado and tomato sandwiches that Denielle made up, and rehydrated. We pressed on for a little while longer, but unclear as to how much further the river was, and the impending rising tide was quickly reclaiming the beach leaving nowhere to ride, so we turned back. We soon had to cut back up to the road as the beach was becoming impassable. The next thing on my bike to go was the handlebars. The nut holding the handlebars had worked itself loose, so I was then left with unattached handlebars that flipped and flopped in my sweaty hands. Beauty. We arrived at a restaurant in Manzanillo, totally fatigued and in need of drink and food. This also gave us a chance to get out of the hot sun for a while. We took the road all the way back in to town, and arrived at the house, exhausted but alive.

Our first day here we had a great time at one of the local bars that was showing the gold medal hockey game. The crowd was intense, split between Canadians and ‘Mericans just slightly in favour of the Canucks. We had entered during the second period to find the Canadian team ahead, but a late goal with a pulled goalie took the game to overtime, with tensions running high amongst the bar goers. Chants of go Canada go were interspersed with U-S-A, and everyone was having a patriotic time. When Crosby scored the final goal however, the place erupted in cheers and even the singing of the national anthem. It was a fun time indeed.

Yesterday we made the trip down to Montezuma to show Nicole and Skya the waterfalls and the hippy town. We had a great time, and managed to hike up to the two higher water falls that we hadn’t been to before. The path leading there was steep and full of roots, bringing back memories of the volcano hike in Nicaragua. There were a lot of people at the higher falls, and a very large jumping spot to the lower pool. Skya is crazy, and made the leap. He appeared to fall through the air for ever, and plunged into the cool water below with a thunderous splash. One of the more brave individuals, or perhaps foolish, tried a back flip. I’m not sure of the actual height, but I would guess at least 30 to 40 feet. One old hippy performed some yoga on top of a tree branch above the upper pool before diving in below. I had a couple of nice back flops from the rope swing. We had a scare on our exit from the falls as Nicole slipped near the top towards the big drop to the lower pool and almost fell. But we managed to get out unscathed, and even got a ride down the long road back to town, where we gorged ourselves on pizza.

Surfing has been very good here as of late, especially since Nicole brought some rivets to take in the waist of my board shorts, and Skya and I have been going out each morning and catching a plethora of wavy goodness. Each day has been getting a little bigger, and today had a nice offshore breeze shaping up the waves, but apparently word had got out, and the lineup was stacked with people from one end of the beach to the other. This made for aggressive paddle battles for every wave and few opportunities to get a good ride trying to avoid the throngs swimming back out. But we caught some nice waves, and will be back again in the morning as the swell continues to rise. Nicole went out for some waves this afternoon and almost got up a few times in the white water. Denielle and Nicole also had an epic two hour yoga session, saw through time, and are now at one with mother earth. We’ll be doing much of the same, surfing and general beachyness for the next few days, which are running out rather quickly. Skya leaves on Monday, and then we’re off to the south for Nicole’s Spanish classes and more surfing.

Tyler.