Places

3:45 A.M. came early (which I suppose is to be expected) and we rolled off our benches to prep for the approaching insanity.  Half of team "Hood to Whose Idea Was This" climbed in and Van 1 of 2 was off and rolling out of Hood River towards Mt. Hood.   The mountain was still enveloped in darkness as we parked near the relay's starting point.  A quick check of the weather confirms that my run was going to be quite brisk at 36 degrees.  Nerves and excitement set in as team names are announced over the loud speaker and the sun began to peak over Mt. Hood's conical snow line.  This is it... we try to wrap our minds around the fact that some time tomorrow afternoon we're going to have run as a team to the Oregon Coast 200 miles away, as long as we can actually make it.   We were about to attempt the possibly impossible task of completing the Hood to Coast Relay along with 12,816 other runners. Read more

Once again, my morning began at an hour far too early for my vagabonding standards.  I crawled out of bed and out of the mosquito netting to leave Meisha fast asleep.  After a bit of coffee and a quick breakfast, Clay and I left the house to meet our fishing guide at the Estero Negro River.  Slathered in sunscreen in anticipation of a very warm day, we walked down the dusty 500 meters of road from Clay’s cacao farm out to the highway.  As we met the highway, the rain met us.  If there’s one thing that moves quickly here in Costa Rica, it’s the rain.   

Within minutes, a slow drizzle became a veritable downpour.  We trudged on as canceling wasn’t an option.  Edgar was paddling 2 hours downriver to meet us where the river meets the Caribbean Sea.  Cell phones weren’t an option, so this trip was going to happen, despite the weather.  Read more

After a few quick email exchanges via CouchSurfing, we jumped on the bus with our Czech friend Michal to go meet a (mostly) total stranger in San José for some coffee and urban exploration. Upon our arrival, we stepped out of the Puriscal Bus Terminal to see Mariano waiting there for us on his trusty little blue Fiat. Curbside pickup. Right on 🙂 As we drove to find a good parking spot, we got to know each other a bit and Mariano explained the disorganized driving habits of Central America to us. Mariano found a suitable spot and as we started to head toward Avenida Central, he was stopped by a "watchy man" (an under-the-table person who keeps an eye on your car if you pay him... if not, not guarantee of what might happen). He paid the watchy man and we moved on.   Read more

The sun had barely cracked the horizon, its warm glow moving down the adjacent slope of the Rio Quebrada Honda valley as we rolled out of bed. While rubbing my eyes and peering out the hazy window at the early morning spectacle I begin to wonder, "Why did we sign up for this again? Oh yeah... volcano." It seems as though the very word was designed to suck the interest of anyone who dared glance at a Lonely Planet Guide. We stumbled into some CouchSurfing friends the night before and as soon as the word was mentioned, it sounded good to us and we agreed to meet up and go together. Luckily our bags were pre-packed and limited clothing makes for limited selection time. We rouse Michal, the Czech CouchSurfer staying in the room next door.  Out the door and down the road.   Read more