In which we get lost...

Hello again kids… today I have a little story about a walk gone wrong. And how somehow it was better than right.  I got lost.

Doctor Paul had a lesson for us. Unfortunately, during this lesson, we forgot to look where we were going. So we missed a sign. So we hiked an additional 8 kilometers, 4 down and then 4 back up a hill/mountain/cliff. 

It started with good intentions, a great breakfast of yogurt, muesli and fruit, a backpack filled with lunch, the obligatory camera and we were off on our hike. With me was the German physicist Christoff and the English doctor from Sweden, who shall be referred to from now on as Doctor Paul. And joining us on this expedition is a small absolutely crazy dog that hangs out at the Pension Santa Elena. His name is Torcido, and he has decided to tag along with us.

Doctor Paul is engaging, a lifelong traveller, who enjoys a respite from the severe lack of sun at this time of year in Sweden. He travels the world for six weeks or so and picked Central America for this trip. His wife who is from Finland stays home and they travel together in the summer. He likes to make conversation, and his stories are about traveling, life and doctor stuff. Needless to say, a great dialogue ensued as we traversed the countryside, walking basically uphill for five kilometers towards the turnoff to the waterfall of San Luis, Monteverde, Puntarenes, Costa Rica.

After discussing the merits of using hookworm to help the symptoms of some auto immune disorders, during which we segway into how bats are good for the world, how pharmaceutical companies rush to synthesize and market plants that may cure us, how antibiotics are overused in modern medicine.  We were enjoying the day, a clear sunny day, getting hot now. Torcido is still with us, stopping as we meet other dogs, saying hi, moving along with us.

So we walk and walk and take a right turn where we should have gone left. As you can see by the sign, it’s pretty big and quite clear, we should have turned left. 

So as we go along on the wrong road, the one we went right, we discuss other pertinent health matters, and then, the epiphany. I have found a new way to worship.

This is the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monsters. Founded by folks in the USA, in order for their rights to be protected from the teaching of creationism only in schools, this very serious religion is now a world wide phenomenon. Please join me in spreading the word of this wonderful church, for it has now spread worldwide. A gentleman from Austria, Niko Alm (http://www.facebook.com/rezor) joined the church in order to gain the right to wear a hat (for religious reasons) on his driver’s license photo. In Austria, all people must remove their hats for this important photo identification. Unless your religion requires that you wear something on your head. You see, the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monsters mandated that in ceremonial times, their members must wear a colander on their heads. Mr. Alm now has a photo on his driver’s license wearing a colander.How cool is that? And there is much more to their religion, so please check it out http://www.venganza.org/ 

You see, this is the type of life altering stuff going on here in Costa Rica with me. Totally earth shattering that this religion existed and that I have to right to follow it. I could even become a minister! Please join me in following this wonderful religion. I am now clear on the reason of my journey.And it's free!!!

Anyway, back to the road. Four kilometers down the road, we reach the small village that is San Luis. As we are walking, there is this nagging feeling that something is wrong. But we soldier on, being passed only by Ticos on dirt bikes and the occasional 4x4. When we get to the bottom of the mountain, there is a beautiful bridge from the river that is WAY WAY downstream from the waterfall. 

So we ask someone.

We’re way too far down the mountain. 

So we walk up. And up. For two more hours, we retrace our steps to the sign that we had passed. It is hot, and our legs are getting a bit tired. Well, a lot tired. And the sweat has soaked everything. And the rubbing of body parts is starting to hurt. And and and... (Torcido is stll with us, ambling along and each time we stop to rest, he immediately falls asleep at our feet)

But we persevere, and find the road and walk some more, only a couple of kilometers. And we talk of other things, including the new wonderful field of epigenetics. And we share stories and sweat and feel our legs cramp and drink warm beer from a small store and walk the remaing two kilometers to the waterfall. 

When we arrive, at this farm, we are told that the trail for the waterfall is only an additional kilometer and should take about one hour, because it is almost straight uphill. And it’s a rough trail, strewn with rocks and many steps and stream and bridges and more steps. Hundreds of steps. So we are now past our due date, and rapidly reaching our limits. We push through, and the four of us (yes. Torcido comes too, sometimes jumping into the air to get to the next platform step) follow the trail. And we reach the falls. We are not really talking at this point. We’re just concentrating on not breaking a leg, or falling down the mountainside, or causing a landslide.

I don’t know if the waterfall is the most beautiful I have ever seen. I know the mist that covered us when we arrived was the best mist ever. I know the noise of the water, the crescendo of percussion, was better than any drum solo ever. I know that the feeling of peace among the noise was overwhelming. I know that watching and feeling the power of the falls and being there was incredible. Christoff even swam in the pool beneath. Doctor Paul and I were silent. As you know, it takes something special for me to shut up. This was it. Torcido slept.

But the point of this story is not as mush to tell you about our wrong turn, but more about how pushing your limits, whether planned or unplanned, can improve your life. That going past your limits in a physical way can bring a calmness (other than from being totally exhausted) to your life. 

The feeling I had at this waterfall was one of satisfaction, one of joy and one of bliss. Standing next to the guys and Torcido, I was so happy. No one else was there. No one else came while we were there.

We reluctantly left, for there was only a short time left until the sun set. And we didn’t want to get stuck there.

Another indeterminate period of time and we retraced our steps to the trail head, where, after over nine hours of walking up and down the mountainsides (oh, and at 1800 meters, the oxygen percentage is lower), we had the privilege of hitching a ride with a couple from France, who took us back close to the hostel. Torcido had walked the entire way with us, and slept at our feet in the back seat.

A big dinner, a beer or two, a great story to tell the staff and others at the hostel, some laughs, and off to bed. I fell asleep in four seconds. I hardly had time to review my day, and did not even think about tomorrow. 

It was a great day.