Our challenge was to ride 500 km across beautiful Costa Rica in aid of 'Dignity in Dementia' at Poole Hospital from 3-12 April. Back home and mission accomplished, we are publishing below our daily diary and photos as quickly as we can sort out the photos!
Click on any photo to enlarge it.
Click on any photo to enlarge it.
And so to the final ride. But first decision time. It had rained heavily all night as I have mentioned. The clothes we had hung out to dry, hadn't. Now, what to do; pre-worn cycling shorts (top no problem we had been saving our Poole Hospital cycling shirt for today) or a wet but fresh(er) pair.
As girls we went for wet and fresh, wrung the excess water from them and put them on. It was like putting on a wet swimsuit only with a soggy padded bottom. Our trainers were just as wet. After wading through a wide river they were not going to dry overnight, rain or no rain. I did however mentally question why both Penny and I put on clean dry socks!
Breakfast, rice, beans, cheese, fruit, fruit juice and coffee to set us up for the next couple of hours. It was warm but overcast with more than a threat of rain so it really didn't matter that we were damp, as there was more rain to come.
As girls we went for wet and fresh, wrung the excess water from them and put them on. It was like putting on a wet swimsuit only with a soggy padded bottom. Our trainers were just as wet. After wading through a wide river they were not going to dry overnight, rain or no rain. I did however mentally question why both Penny and I put on clean dry socks!
Breakfast, rice, beans, cheese, fruit, fruit juice and coffee to set us up for the next couple of hours. It was warm but overcast with more than a threat of rain so it really didn't matter that we were damp, as there was more rain to come.
No, not a prayer to the Great God of Tarmac, although if we had known what we were to encounter today we may have made it so. More an attempt to get the feeling back into our fingers. Our hands were still troublesome after the continuous jarring and vibration of so much off road riding. Pete (who knows about these things) gave us some stretching exercises to try to relieve the symptoms. It was only possible to do them while kneeling on the floor, so while we put the exercises to the test Matt demonstrated the technique from the comfort of his arm chair.
We left the tropical idyll of a campsite, our bikes having been cleaned, dried and oiled, and set off for the last leg of the challenge.
We hadn't gone too far when we stopped abruptly. Lying across the road where most of us were about to cycle, a snake, of the viper family. JC told us it was one of Costa Rica's more venomous varieties, in fact the most venomous. So we all stood and stared at it, daring it to move, waiting for some action.
There wasn't any. Was it dead? Like school children, the Steve Irvings amongst the group suggested aggravating it.
We did nothing of the sort. As we departed the snake coiled, it was probably the finest burst of speed we had experienced all week. It's always best to have something in reserve!
There wasn't any. Was it dead? Like school children, the Steve Irvings amongst the group suggested aggravating it.
We did nothing of the sort. As we departed the snake coiled, it was probably the finest burst of speed we had experienced all week. It's always best to have something in reserve!
A few more banana plantations, but also more tropical rainforest type vegetation. In among the leaves and detritus on the edge of the dirt track JC spotted two frogs, goodness knows how, we were concentrating on the uneven
surface.
The frogs, one blue, one orange with blue feet were small, just the right size to fit on top of a pencil, small poison dart frogs. As I said the wildlife was pretty camera shy and nipped just out of focus when you had got the creature in frame. Unfortunately these frogs were no different - the photographs we took were blurred.
surface.
The frogs, one blue, one orange with blue feet were small, just the right size to fit on top of a pencil, small poison dart frogs. As I said the wildlife was pretty camera shy and nipped just out of focus when you had got the creature in frame. Unfortunately these frogs were no different - the photographs we took were blurred.
It really didn't matter much that it was raining quite heavily, we were approaching another river crossing; there were a few today. More shallow, but once again warm. Some carried their bike, there was a lot of 'carrying your bike' today, while others wheeled theirs across and pushed them up the steep back on the far side.
We rode from dirt track to tarmac, a respite for bodily areas showing signs of wear and tear. A condition which mainly affected the male of the species.
Climbing one hill Matt managed to stand hard on one pedal as the other spun around and caught his shin - HARD. He was in a lot of discomfort but still managed to ride his bike, but with a limp!
There were a few minor scrapes and injuries. All to the boys and all treated with the iodine 'sympathy' spray. Not only did it sting, cue sharp intake of breath and hissing noise, it looked rather good too.
Unfortunately Mark managed to crack a rib later but didn't realise until he arrived home. And Pete, as a demonstration of what could be done, took an injury (one he made earlier) on the trip with him.
Climbing one hill Matt managed to stand hard on one pedal as the other spun around and caught his shin - HARD. He was in a lot of discomfort but still managed to ride his bike, but with a limp!
There were a few minor scrapes and injuries. All to the boys and all treated with the iodine 'sympathy' spray. Not only did it sting, cue sharp intake of breath and hissing noise, it looked rather good too.
Unfortunately Mark managed to crack a rib later but didn't realise until he arrived home. And Pete, as a demonstration of what could be done, took an injury (one he made earlier) on the trip with him.
There was definitely more of a Jamaican influence to this part of the country. You could see it in the colourful but somewhat dilapidated houses, the people and their style of dress. Costa Rica had previously gone though a 'Beeching style' overhaul of the railway system and many services had been decommissioned. The tracks, sleepers and some rolling stock were left in place, dividing towns and communities.
The men would sit and watch as the world passed by their front porch, cars rusting in the roads and more dogs, lots more dogs.
I was beginning to wonder if one/two dogs had populated the whole of Costa Rica with their canine offspring. From West to East they all looked very similar, within two or three colour options. Without fail they roamed the tracks with purpose and direction. On reflection I think I now know what their purpose was.
Riding-beside-the-tracks went on for some many, many kilometres. It was busier here with more people, more shacks and huge potholes in the road. Yes they have them there too but on a mega scale. We dodged pedestrians, mopeds, and cars - parked and moving.
The only rule of the road was to avoid the pot holes, many of which intermittently covered the width of the road with all traffic vying for any pothole free tracks through them. It was best in situations where all moving vehicles converged to give way or better still, get out of the way.
While the local people smiled they were not as gregarious as those we had met over the past few days.
The men would sit and watch as the world passed by their front porch, cars rusting in the roads and more dogs, lots more dogs.
I was beginning to wonder if one/two dogs had populated the whole of Costa Rica with their canine offspring. From West to East they all looked very similar, within two or three colour options. Without fail they roamed the tracks with purpose and direction. On reflection I think I now know what their purpose was.
Riding-beside-the-tracks went on for some many, many kilometres. It was busier here with more people, more shacks and huge potholes in the road. Yes they have them there too but on a mega scale. We dodged pedestrians, mopeds, and cars - parked and moving.
The only rule of the road was to avoid the pot holes, many of which intermittently covered the width of the road with all traffic vying for any pothole free tracks through them. It was best in situations where all moving vehicles converged to give way or better still, get out of the way.
While the local people smiled they were not as gregarious as those we had met over the past few days.
A junction in the road where the train tracks crossed we took the left hand fork across the Caribbean lowlands and rode; the single railway track on our left.
Apparently this track was still in use, one of the few in the area. It transported freight to the coast, just where we were heading.
The path we were following became more and more narrow until finally we were riding along the side of the track, between the vegetation and the sleepers. When the track became too narrow to safely ride beside it we rode the railway line itself.
But not before CRASH, Mark had hit a concrete sleeper and landed on track, sleeper and scaplings - the cause of the fractured rib!
Winded and unnerved he took some time to restock and regain his courage. He walked a little, then off again riding the tracks.
The tracks were diabolical, literally railway tracks laid for freight trains not built for bikes. If the sleepers and scaplings were even and level it was bearable. If the sleepers were uneven or missing and the scaplings sparse, it was utter agony.
Apparently this track was still in use, one of the few in the area. It transported freight to the coast, just where we were heading.
The path we were following became more and more narrow until finally we were riding along the side of the track, between the vegetation and the sleepers. When the track became too narrow to safely ride beside it we rode the railway line itself.
But not before CRASH, Mark had hit a concrete sleeper and landed on track, sleeper and scaplings - the cause of the fractured rib!
Winded and unnerved he took some time to restock and regain his courage. He walked a little, then off again riding the tracks.
The tracks were diabolical, literally railway tracks laid for freight trains not built for bikes. If the sleepers and scaplings were even and level it was bearable. If the sleepers were uneven or missing and the scaplings sparse, it was utter agony.
We were on a time limit today.
Walking was not an option, we had to ride.
Walking was not an option, we had to ride.
There was 7 Km of railway trail every metre more painful than the last. We felt so shaken about by the experience that we began to estimate the cost of the dental work to replace our lost fillings.
Another river crossing. A wide river banked by lush and dense vegetation. It was pretty to watch and relaxing to stand and admire the beautiful scenery.
It took your mind off the old wooden bridge which spanned the river, the bridge we were about to cross. The bridge with the uneven or missing sleepers and wide gaps. I have already mentioned that there was a lot of 'carrying your bike' today. This was one of them.
Despite another try we could not get the knack of picking up the bike let alone carry it.
Another river crossing. A wide river banked by lush and dense vegetation. It was pretty to watch and relaxing to stand and admire the beautiful scenery.
It took your mind off the old wooden bridge which spanned the river, the bridge we were about to cross. The bridge with the uneven or missing sleepers and wide gaps. I have already mentioned that there was a lot of 'carrying your bike' today. This was one of them.
Despite another try we could not get the knack of picking up the bike let alone carry it.
So Penny picked her way across while JC carried his bike and hers...both at the same time.
Sacrificing my spirit of adventure; I was manhandled across by JC.
Sacrificing my spirit of adventure; I was manhandled across by JC.
Once safely over the bridge, bikes and adventurous spirit returned, we mounted our bikes and rode. As the tracks disappeared into the distance we expected many more kilometers of agony and gritting our teeth, but not too hard, we carried on.
Suddenly a break in the thick track-side vegetation and there it was. Our first sight of the aim of the challenge - to cycle from the Pacific to the Caribbean coast. There was the Caribbean in all it's deserted gorgeous glory.
Relieved we had made it, we captured the moment.
Suddenly a break in the thick track-side vegetation and there it was. Our first sight of the aim of the challenge - to cycle from the Pacific to the Caribbean coast. There was the Caribbean in all it's deserted gorgeous glory.
Relieved we had made it, we captured the moment.
We took a break and strolled along the shore. Deep, rolling breakers, palm tree flanked, wide sandy, lonely beaches. There was nothing in either direction as far as the eye could see. We had made it...........almost.
We had reached the Caribbean but not the finish point. That was another 18 kilometers away. The track was sandy so, so much easier on the 'touch points' and the arms.
There were shacks along the way, for the poorest of the poor. The shacks were built from anything the inhabitants could find, corrugated iron, palettes and flotsam collected from the beach. They were in the middle of nowhere with a view from the pages of a travel brochure, without any of the luxuries and very, very basic.
The sand track finally gave way to tarmac road and a cargo container terminal. We crossed the road and free wheeled down the hill into the town. Turning into a car park we met the bus and stacked our bikes.
This time we really were at our final destination. YESSSSS we had made it. We truly had cycled just over 500 Km in seven days across Costa Rica, one of the seven countries on the strip of land - the isthmus - which joins North America to South America.
There were shacks along the way, for the poorest of the poor. The shacks were built from anything the inhabitants could find, corrugated iron, palettes and flotsam collected from the beach. They were in the middle of nowhere with a view from the pages of a travel brochure, without any of the luxuries and very, very basic.
The sand track finally gave way to tarmac road and a cargo container terminal. We crossed the road and free wheeled down the hill into the town. Turning into a car park we met the bus and stacked our bikes.
This time we really were at our final destination. YESSSSS we had made it. We truly had cycled just over 500 Km in seven days across Costa Rica, one of the seven countries on the strip of land - the isthmus - which joins North America to South America.
Crack open the champagne it's time to celebrate.
Then a dip in the sea and well deserved
buffoonery.
Then a dip in the sea and well deserved
buffoonery.
A sand and salt covered, slightly tiddly but an exceedingly happy trio.
To our families, supporters and generous sponsors.
We did it! We made it! Goal achieved.
Thank you.
To our families, supporters and generous sponsors.
We did it! We made it! Goal achieved.
Thank you.
.......but just a little more before the trip ends.
There was still the matter of the four hour transfer back to San Jose, the hotel (hot showers) and the celebratory meal. Luisca was not going to let wet, sandy passengers on his bus so we looked for a shower.
If you have been following our diaries you will know that we are experienced in communal showers of dubious origins and varying quality. This was no exception.
The shower was between a bar and the beach with public access through the centre. I feel the Costa Rican's are very liberal. The showers were cold, we came to expect nothing else, in a row of five, at the side of the pathway. Opposite were four stalls/cubicles which used to be the showers (before they were re-sited on the opposite side of the path). Mixed sex.
We showered washing away salt and sand, changed and made a dash for the bar.
We had had an early start, cycled 56 kilometers, 30% paved, 70% dirt. Drank champagne and dipped in the Caribbean. A few beers set us up for the journey back to the capital so boarding the bus we sat back to admire the scenery but without the hard work.
If you have been following our diaries you will know that we are experienced in communal showers of dubious origins and varying quality. This was no exception.
The shower was between a bar and the beach with public access through the centre. I feel the Costa Rican's are very liberal. The showers were cold, we came to expect nothing else, in a row of five, at the side of the pathway. Opposite were four stalls/cubicles which used to be the showers (before they were re-sited on the opposite side of the path). Mixed sex.
We showered washing away salt and sand, changed and made a dash for the bar.
We had had an early start, cycled 56 kilometers, 30% paved, 70% dirt. Drank champagne and dipped in the Caribbean. A few beers set us up for the journey back to the capital so boarding the bus we sat back to admire the scenery but without the hard work.
Contented, happy and exhausted the scenery just passed by most of us. Apart from Pete who was at the other end of the 'candid' lens.
We reached San Jose at dusk and in the rush hour. What a seriously bad mistake. The three miles from the outskirts to the hotel took one and a half hours!!!!
We reached San Jose at dusk and in the rush hour. What a seriously bad mistake. The three miles from the outskirts to the hotel took one and a half hours!!!!
Our long anticipated first hot shower in days reduced to a few short minutes.
Then back on the bus, to an Italian restaurant for a slap up meal.
The menu came on very small squares of paper, printed off of a home computer, three starters, three main courses. The only thing the menu didn't have was the Queen's head.
Then back on the bus, to an Italian restaurant for a slap up meal.
The menu came on very small squares of paper, printed off of a home computer, three starters, three main courses. The only thing the menu didn't have was the Queen's head.
Most of us chose the salad. Now very much in favour of sharing, we chose a House salad and a Chiefs salad.
So inspired was Mark by the house salad he attempted to re-create it when he got home.
The chief's salad had the addition of tomatoes.
So inspired was Mark by the house salad he attempted to re-create it when he got home.
The chief's salad had the addition of tomatoes.
To drink; there wasn't a wine list, they didn't sell alcohol but they did have rum! However, helpfully the waitress brought us three bottles of wine - three different varieties. We chose one, asking for three more.
No that was the total wine stock. We had emptied the cellar in one sitting. Two mediocre, one dreadful. No, three dreadful.
Andy expressed his dissatisfaction, we got free puddings and left for a bar near the hotel.
Wine, beer, Tequila slammers, pool and Dad dancing.
No that was the total wine stock. We had emptied the cellar in one sitting. Two mediocre, one dreadful. No, three dreadful.
Andy expressed his dissatisfaction, we got free puddings and left for a bar near the hotel.
Wine, beer, Tequila slammers, pool and Dad dancing.
It was a very short night. The shortest of the trip despite getting up on our last morning at a respectable 06.30. We could sleep on the flights home coz it was going to be another long day.