Much to my surprise the hike was easier going this time. It was still a bit hard, especially for my knees, but I seem to be in better physical condition than I was six years and forty pounds ago. I have forgotten how far the distances are, but we always do seem to forget this, eh? Wisely, I stopped in a store neaby to purchase a cold beverage, as I didn´t know really the arduous hike ahead of me. The scenery and the views are incredible, with mountains and trees everywhere. And tons of butterflies, mostly coloured yellow or orange and a few monarchs as well.
When I tried this hike six years ago I kept walking along a narrow rock road, expecting it to take me back to Monteverde. Along the way I chickened out, walked back to the store where I purchased a beverage and got the fellow working there to call me a taxi (and he said in his best English, okay, you´re a taxi!) which took me back up the long tortuous hill to the bed and breakfast.
This time I was determined to walk the whole distance even if it killed me. So I walked. And I walked. And I walked. It was all uphill and as it got very steep and rocky I was able to find large boulders to sit and rest on along the way. When I thought I had come to its end I came across a farm community with a collection of well-tended houses. I wandered around, hoping to find a way out, while watching out for guard dogs and shotguns. Nothing happened. I was still lost. I approached one of the houses and the couple living there, two transplanted Americans were very kind to me. We spoke in English as it was their language of choice, but there is something comforting about being helped in your mother tongue. I tried to find my way out without success. Then two young girls with a friendly Bernese dog helped me find my way back to the correct path. I have mentoned previously on this blog series about the kindness of strangers.
When I found the correct route, it was even rockier, steeper and much longer than I would have imagined. Accepting that I am sixty-one and no longer thirty, I paced myself with great care, stopping every fifty paces or so to take ten deep breaths, and taking advantage of resting on any sittable rock that presented itself. This was when I had one of my more memorable bird sightings here. Here is the image again if I can refresh your memory
It´s called a golden browed chlorophonia. They are tiny. I saw four of them or so in this small tree nearby. Every bit as beautiful as a quetzal, they just don´t have rock star status.
I did eventually make it to the top and hobbled my way to the soda for a bite to eat. The hike was about four hours altogether. I feel fine right now but I´ll probably be paying for it tomorrow.
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