tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21821846944913308372024-02-18T17:58:22.266-08:00I am ReedCMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-77358832142307376412009-12-07T15:31:00.000-08:002009-12-07T17:19:09.114-08:00Belize Fall/Winter 2009<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-08OeCebcyc3b4vZ86fYHnKs3v38VUGZ-5gnNrDky0lOoWM3Kc8dKonrHcD4h_WPzphnjJHRA5kiq4yVyEq4iibmvJuISUEEL9zY4PD4zX6LVPqwDfK7FWprcI8C7wndvRaJMU-cKkC-f/s1600-h/P1010249.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-08OeCebcyc3b4vZ86fYHnKs3v38VUGZ-5gnNrDky0lOoWM3Kc8dKonrHcD4h_WPzphnjJHRA5kiq4yVyEq4iibmvJuISUEEL9zY4PD4zX6LVPqwDfK7FWprcI8C7wndvRaJMU-cKkC-f/s320/P1010249.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412668304186665810" /></a><br /><div>The trip to Belize can only be told in terms of the "characters" we met and encountered while we were down there. I would first like to preface any and all stories by introducing the character that drove us to the tropical Shangri-la in the first place. This would be the aquatic vertebrate named, strangely enough, for its vertebrae: The Bonefish. The following video introduces you to the wiry fish that brought us to the island community of San Pedro, Belize.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Now. Although we may have Mr. Bonefish to thank for directing our compasses southward, but the Aycock Family needs some attention in order for anyone to properly contextualize many of our experiences.</div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-15067570484252130212009-10-01T10:13:00.001-07:002009-10-01T10:22:36.673-07:00September 2009 fishing<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVx8asj3XiYkj57EIFxpWlPjWKGNi6IFmvhsD4TJ2vJ5mrvq2hwcwfSBXVRsYCpFihaffb71Z0R8e-CY7wLfMGXujmXtSZOAvXSZiZZCAZtKx7Gw67sqmnJDK9q9qU5o1FEyYqf92Cnn6Y/s320/IMG_2284.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387682109043295154" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80kdeOtA8CSWroESZ-clgvNvG3g6wrumhXLmG0M_25QJJ2g9VNmGhextH6vJg_blAGntatgAERA7rsQpxkCAdITJzHGpVLACzk23BCA8Vl5WSe3Qrd8m_XFABMyqOaoLo6pr0j3v2sNMN/s1600-h/IMG_2278.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80kdeOtA8CSWroESZ-clgvNvG3g6wrumhXLmG0M_25QJJ2g9VNmGhextH6vJg_blAGntatgAERA7rsQpxkCAdITJzHGpVLACzk23BCA8Vl5WSe3Qrd8m_XFABMyqOaoLo6pr0j3v2sNMN/s320/IMG_2278.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387682101751087922" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAVI1WvuBK0Bkto8ASADlxjDP_ci80xKW9OR69B5HUWVhjkc30DncPB75tfWeqjN6WiWAE392C3y_W7vkOXRquLUDRP787vPCa0vKSX5omlzbYytEYRtwRdfcOXkOb_xeTJWyKg4XTccn/s1600-h/IMG_2277.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAVI1WvuBK0Bkto8ASADlxjDP_ci80xKW9OR69B5HUWVhjkc30DncPB75tfWeqjN6WiWAE392C3y_W7vkOXRquLUDRP787vPCa0vKSX5omlzbYytEYRtwRdfcOXkOb_xeTJWyKg4XTccn/s320/IMG_2277.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387682093339528210" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm8T4W73mMJM9ksIA1QIOqkO8e1tGq3Yh6sz9dcA6kfS89VawziqUxMqsUD_J0zfgJDqEiKfIsxDxpzTE8O1264uXFJQJlbh4PmX1YmO6woFG7dootGhoxydDgKCEd6PKYg5bXPIy33abq/s1600-h/IMG_2275.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm8T4W73mMJM9ksIA1QIOqkO8e1tGq3Yh6sz9dcA6kfS89VawziqUxMqsUD_J0zfgJDqEiKfIsxDxpzTE8O1264uXFJQJlbh4PmX1YmO6woFG7dootGhoxydDgKCEd6PKYg5bXPIy33abq/s320/IMG_2275.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387682087254207346" /></a><br />September Fishing.CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-32972880725652205952008-06-22T09:43:00.000-07:002008-06-22T09:53:32.288-07:00Salmonflies 2008<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyA9cnABsmB03DMtvGd76muoMyK0rZsBH825wLf5mIWPLaYSSF1TdttFijzXvkErWqjG0dreKv8ZElQnTwacA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-10698985265673023932008-04-25T05:44:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:52:26.316-08:00Spring Skiing--Peak 1<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1-85Fxu5xLHPJa_-EKl6U4FDkelHwowvGNVIQnoQtoGMvoW_e4a4dNsCST6wOmDQGUxUrf87Qihyphenhypheng8Deupfulm5DjearKFSQ7u1BaS43OvreehKhz4wxjZLrI7N0OzT6hp1yc9S9cL_U/s1600-h/IMG_1888.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193165470430570578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1-85Fxu5xLHPJa_-EKl6U4FDkelHwowvGNVIQnoQtoGMvoW_e4a4dNsCST6wOmDQGUxUrf87Qihyphenhypheng8Deupfulm5DjearKFSQ7u1BaS43OvreehKhz4wxjZLrI7N0OzT6hp1yc9S9cL_U/s320/IMG_1888.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">this was our first view of the peak</span></em><br /></div><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>So I've been dying to ski Peak 1 of the Tenmile Range, just behind my house. Its such an asthetic mountain to ski, plus I can leave right from my place. How pleasing it was not to have to drive anywhere. It was a CC extravanganza as Josh and Jenny came with me. Thanks guys, it was a lot of fun. Here's some photos...<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVCY8LcoL7cCcpxhS2T-sZUdCSQWUHBI58sAzKjG6CJDueYw5wcH8vA0XJitbUQmreljExA_-_Pf-eWFE-wBnLlLcA5spoFaSCYQ7EVwrHk23GmPvlE0cwOMUPb164ZE5Z6H3-b5nCZC3/s1600-h/IMG_1891.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193166612891871346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVCY8LcoL7cCcpxhS2T-sZUdCSQWUHBI58sAzKjG6CJDueYw5wcH8vA0XJitbUQmreljExA_-_Pf-eWFE-wBnLlLcA5spoFaSCYQ7EVwrHk23GmPvlE0cwOMUPb164ZE5Z6H3-b5nCZC3/s320/IMG_1891.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">the last push...</span></em><br /></div><div></div><div><br /> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYo_1ciTrNBz9fYEOetCcAG89kSYIpm1K8ScWF7MvGntEktQZ1PPX_lzvnuXr13ngL3HiCErvzzhCRgOtiEfRmRTNSWDSsfZ4zvk6ntiapIUom2DVMz0rOKkrQU0swACbX625g8AeCJ-B/s1600-h/IMG_1889.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193166307949193314" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYo_1ciTrNBz9fYEOetCcAG89kSYIpm1K8ScWF7MvGntEktQZ1PPX_lzvnuXr13ngL3HiCErvzzhCRgOtiEfRmRTNSWDSsfZ4zvk6ntiapIUom2DVMz0rOKkrQU0swACbX625g8AeCJ-B/s320/IMG_1889.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Scree!</span></em><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193166935014418562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3FJ0vAThhuNSDkXEhiF30kLym-A8lzQGZfzXisHl3C-2uZ1RH2fYKqlUQFPun9Xly6AyEYO5HyEYhz2H-BJbgB0_f58di0C8Vb6IGcVc3J1_-dx5XY6og7CifH1OfG4NwkyRkhKhcIqKG/s320/IMG_1893.JPG" border="0" /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"> the rollover at the top was substantial</span></em></div><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div></div><br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193168622936565922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSpJWSopMZFEJ71GDBv4mwh1dmFhpVSVkRYKkaBNxuQ7_ThNxV4itO5ZNa4vrLNP3ps3c1vIbgdq2KYpt585xMkh717zMjOZ31j8ybtGVqajQlWjeYYz-JEWvZcK-gf_tWiZzf9VpYuI7x/s400/IMG_1896.JPG" border="0" /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">We traversed below the 100ft cliffband and opted for a more northerly aspect. Corn skiing all the way down!</span></em><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193169091088001202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfg3ogZdl1sjCtn8rmuUX4FNtG892TZ_zqcpfSdy_ai0TylMkbUcWwC7A_YveLLBAnz0GrTK9R9nVdpuc432orDXphofI7d7mC5w4iiGB0iDtsaSSiqt1Rqnz4jS-LXHNv_FeuqYDLXEL/s400/IMG_1898.JPG" border="0" /> <em><span style="font-size:85%;">Jenny is a mere dot. This was a big mountain: 3800 vertical feet of climbing from my house to the peak.</span></em><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193169507699828930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrnN2cMc9US3v1T74vo5ojtGULOeMCQP0AmAxjeoOMDCMvMPfqu6bjyuBEciF7XRVWdesfaCLRH35_IP0DiXKw4aR8q0fWEUWRFtPn0PwCWzIY8B8TSqrFgDWnM_I5U8AgVjsZY4Vd86o/s400/IMG_1900.JPG" border="0" /> <em><span style="font-size:85%;">Jenny showing us how to ski.</span></em><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193169705268324562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6KA1_1dzw9hZA9WZHL6-3iLD5I1VU_qufbp6hA-0ll2Z0w2dbdtkFF8vZUWn7qxBQDGe2H50-OssykgPoK-Jdbmf1r7fbbBKWnlavIf9tVsfUY1Euf_2B3IbWP668qrNLS5p7uFZF_zl/s400/IMG_1901.JPG" border="0" /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"> Jenny Haywood</span></em><br /><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193169911426754786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2fJzOJTZcPEySMLtYvXc7wYLEqOL-EVFTmiAXaWw4GXANBJ3cVGIpk6kIFGizg9DAnKN86zJ5j_6Bs02-MZ43EuGXeELpYGhyphenhyphenTJiBpDzXbffePmuDjfWSSNSVwt5Nr_S8EqCQGmIWgvn/s400/IMG_1903.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;"> Mountains were made to be skied. SKI THE SNOW!</span></em></p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193170186304661746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RZ5WM3nx9kGJ0fOXUG1BkCAMPpTaVUP5jev5nPE_mTPUm_-SPSy-FJSxKkExoruFJyMLv3RBiCCxXYD2A1oq3dt8CMd8fEd-OqFgvNKsNTZdi74Ws4W7fxvWhMagjZ1myjkfTKmDq8qw/s400/IMG_1908.JPG" border="0" /></p><p> <em><span style="font-size:85%;">Reed trying not to fall...</span></em></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193170323743615234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHKpA7ppNQs0M4VHJZ9U0dfj3cyEmiBJa1fpYmM7pkk5An_ak90WIIRb31Q9w0OI0yOq560wsnneUQHuqWlX8NlK_LI4fWwXQw4vH3pqIqzHCfk8rl-nxIyhvukk5zHGrYMJIEwtLFmXy/s400/IMG_1913.JPG" border="0" /></p> <em><span style="font-size:85%;">Jenny and Josh at the bottom of the cirque.</span></em>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-22053586941391136292007-11-13T17:22:00.000-08:002008-12-09T01:52:26.461-08:00October 25, 2007 Puerto Moin, Costa Rica<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCV_rgRCo5pHU2WYL-JNDBoiNvck7ch9I8B4EqKgMkCG90WJ8v79ykkI6EuQzPsOJM2Z3yUSCU9Xn3dHddpQqLBwxrawjMthq71cjaCXs0NsMgONiFkZqARz017zZ46pahIE4KqfL6_jy/s1600-h/IMG_1774.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132505006279833746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCV_rgRCo5pHU2WYL-JNDBoiNvck7ch9I8B4EqKgMkCG90WJ8v79ykkI6EuQzPsOJM2Z3yUSCU9Xn3dHddpQqLBwxrawjMthq71cjaCXs0NsMgONiFkZqARz017zZ46pahIE4KqfL6_jy/s320/IMG_1774.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This morning I woke up and was all excited to swim in the ocean. After some coffee, I went out and the waves were actually of decent size. You might even say that they were surfable. They were great for body surfing. After a while, Graham came out onto the beach, screaming, "SHARK!" Well, that scared me. I have never swum so quickly towards shore. We'd been hearing all sorts of things about bull sharks-- in Lake Nicaragua, the river, and at Tortuguero (to eat the turtle hatchlings), but hadn't seen one. It did not want to meet one up close. It turns out, it was only a <em>dolpin</em> fishing. Later, when I was walking along the beach, I saw a dead baby turtle washed up on shore, its lifeless body still clinging to a piece of driftwood. It was so little, no bigger than the palm of a child's hand. Such is life.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Graham and I were going to go on a turtle tour to see a female laying her eggs, but we decided not to for two reasons. First, people who had already gone told us it was really crowded-like 100 tourist crowded around 1 turtle trying to lay an egg. Also, we didn't have enough money, if we wanted to make it to Moin. It would have been cool, but maybe another time. Tortuguero is a cool town. Another one of the towns we passed through on this trip that exists without the hindrance of automobiles. Everything is by boat. After our put-in, we didn't see one boat until we arrived in Moin tonight.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It was interesting to talk to some of the people around in Tortuguero.The town is 60% Nica, 20% Tico, and 20% tourists. That is crazy. So at 10:30, we took our lancha bound for Moin. 3 hours later, we were in Puerto Moin amidst huge ships loading up with bananas and the like, bound for all corners of the earth. We got off the lancha and loaded our canoe and paddled 1 K back up the canal where we saw a hotel that was near our pickup. It was weird to be paddling a canoe among large ships. Once we checked into the hotel and secured the gear, we immediately took our passports to downtown Limon in search of a nice immigration officer who would let us enter Costa Rica. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The guy didn't want to give it to us, nor was he nice about it. But we were, and worked him a little. Finally, he siad he would give it to us, even though he only is authorized to stamp incoming ships. I tried to tell him our canoe was a ship of sorts, but my usual wit in English is lacking in Spanish. But, as we have come to notice, we are an exception to most rules governing the borders between Nicaragua and Costa Rica. We got our entrance stamp to Costa Rica, so long as we gave him a copy of our passports. We were more than happy to oblige. Done.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>What a huge weight off my shoulders. Now I can say with confidence that I can go home. We'll get picked up tommorrow morning and be in San Jose by mid afternoon and spend the weekend there.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The trip is done and almost every goal won. What a trip it was. I hope everyone reading this has enjoyed living vicariously through us. Sometimes armchair travel is just as fun because your imagination is involved. </div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-52754450483173918772007-11-13T16:47:00.000-08:002008-12-09T01:52:27.619-08:00October 24, 2007 Tortuguero, Costa Rica<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8eQvxjS3W5WOSpu_8obtUT1yuNC4hkexsC6jukEUH4Z13DsyX9XOcy3JqJdrLOVzYaXrmCTdwy_iQ4Fr-wcNnk_lWvi1PkM0Y0fXZXbTCry5yErPGjWeA760wz2w09i5bjqoSHCOBrYu/s1600-h/IMG_1722.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132499147944441986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8eQvxjS3W5WOSpu_8obtUT1yuNC4hkexsC6jukEUH4Z13DsyX9XOcy3JqJdrLOVzYaXrmCTdwy_iQ4Fr-wcNnk_lWvi1PkM0Y0fXZXbTCry5yErPGjWeA760wz2w09i5bjqoSHCOBrYu/s320/IMG_1722.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>On the morning of the 23rd, Ramon picked us up in his panga and we began the 40 K upstream trek to Tortuguero. On the way, we passed through a labryinth of canals and saw several caimans and turtles. The turtles were just resting on top of logs, basking in the intense sun. We got to Tortuguero and found that MINAE wouldnt let us camp there. Ramon ended up pulling a fast one on us by saying that the original price he quoted us was in colones, not dollars, so he wanted us to pay double what we thought we had agreed on. It's okay though, since it kept Graham out of the sun and in good spirits.<br /><div><div><div><div><br /><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZZ6D51koHVb3uuvpSfF7LfrCX4P3wczc3HlC0eiUH7Yo5BW6sWpHjCrg8qz6t37670QrWXkoAE_WtRqlwmRLui5nl9Yxwx0wUpfiBSoOMWKeXfFSJYY_QX-oE5P0I0cvPTjwtIEi41vr/s1600-h/IMG_1727.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132495939603871778" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZZ6D51koHVb3uuvpSfF7LfrCX4P3wczc3HlC0eiUH7Yo5BW6sWpHjCrg8qz6t37670QrWXkoAE_WtRqlwmRLui5nl9Yxwx0wUpfiBSoOMWKeXfFSJYY_QX-oE5P0I0cvPTjwtIEi41vr/s320/IMG_1727.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><div>Tortuguero is beautiful, but seems wholly dedicated to tourism, which is unlike any of the places we have been on the Rio. We found a cheap travelers hostel that let us camp in their yard and use their facilities. We are a short walk from the beach. We've encountered many other travelers here from England, Canada, US, Holland, Spain, and Chile, among others. It's interesting to be back again in the community of kindred spirits traveling across Central America. Everyone has a story to tell. It's also very telling to see what the other traveler's comfort level is. I hung out in the hammock for about 3 hours after cooking dinner, nursing a Flor de Cana with freshly harvested coconut juice. I remained in a state of half-drunk/half-sleep until I could muster the strength to walk the 20 yards to the tent. There is a 17-year old from Alberta, Canada here that I believe was trying to ingratiate herself with me. Thank God I managed to circumvent that jailbait.</div><br /><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaX3eslz_MJEC-8mDj2oBAJMZlYGGJMXiBOXQo3ip1T5J33Y24rJRP8zQuUi0t4wc3HnWG6vkhUBd66IQjWXOTKh6W4HbOyyEBRh-Hpk0VYnSUPchMN2B0GiwR8IDWTY5rOAgC4MCHfAKn/s1600-h/IMG_1732.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132496609618769970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaX3eslz_MJEC-8mDj2oBAJMZlYGGJMXiBOXQo3ip1T5J33Y24rJRP8zQuUi0t4wc3HnWG6vkhUBd66IQjWXOTKh6W4HbOyyEBRh-Hpk0VYnSUPchMN2B0GiwR8IDWTY5rOAgC4MCHfAKn/s320/IMG_1732.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>This morning (October 24th) we woke up early and took Jaime from Michigan and Holly, from England, on a tour of a Cano in our canoe. They loved it. Especially since they didn't have to pay $30 each for a guide for 3 hours and we were faster than all the guides and saw a ton of wildlife. We left around 5:45 and saw spider monkeys, cara blancas, and howlers; tons of kingfishers, a HUGE tucan up close, and tons of herons, etc. It was fun.</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORAMCo4Swbw435B2hcnkXHDcjvc0IrlN6Yri3DB1wSNB96gLnYJAhlVs7CI05lFjRgZXXE3yj688RLWoMlL0x4MgOp9I7KHhCP5Ei4LynHzxJdiFA5ZXzsyJhw4u5GUp1s_NJeBKl_aG7/s1600-h/IMG_1735.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132497026230597698" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORAMCo4Swbw435B2hcnkXHDcjvc0IrlN6Yri3DB1wSNB96gLnYJAhlVs7CI05lFjRgZXXE3yj688RLWoMlL0x4MgOp9I7KHhCP5Ei4LynHzxJdiFA5ZXzsyJhw4u5GUp1s_NJeBKl_aG7/s320/IMG_1735.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiizn2E0an3DqriU8qjjpB1_LFc3BjjOG0_9UJtSoVZJ6vPwOyX43jdsF8BWsauourgdt8i9Ol98izjrtnOsYOtr1SyxR5UHyn5V3h6eb1yX0LNh39dx9B15-j6lpMjwIv7QBEzqliK1nuf/s1600-h/IMG_1741.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132497580281378914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiizn2E0an3DqriU8qjjpB1_LFc3BjjOG0_9UJtSoVZJ6vPwOyX43jdsF8BWsauourgdt8i9Ol98izjrtnOsYOtr1SyxR5UHyn5V3h6eb1yX0LNh39dx9B15-j6lpMjwIv7QBEzqliK1nuf/s320/IMG_1741.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZCIbeEr6poqCSBCTgwhJ4nXEC_7s10C4b4jzI0jNHC-cNufqqnN62kRGf1UVZq_kKvZT_KV4iB8f7Y6XP2-GwewprPJR-gzUzGNN3IvWBPprCe1G1DVMpPkVmyW3jVmlYqd86fWXzeTZ/s1600-h/IMG_1737.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132497292518570066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZCIbeEr6poqCSBCTgwhJ4nXEC_7s10C4b4jzI0jNHC-cNufqqnN62kRGf1UVZq_kKvZT_KV4iB8f7Y6XP2-GwewprPJR-gzUzGNN3IvWBPprCe1G1DVMpPkVmyW3jVmlYqd86fWXzeTZ/s320/IMG_1737.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Yesterday we took the canoe out in the ocean and surfed it in the small waves- what a blast! Not possible today as the waves were a bit larger and perfect for body surfing or boogie boarding. As I write, I am looking onto the Caribe, toward Jaime laying on the beach. She is a beautiful, long-legged brunette with the most stunning blue eyes. She works as a biologist on a ship in the Aleutian Islands. A very cool girl and a true traveler endowed with the same wanderlust as myself. Its a shame that sometimes traveling doesn't allow for people to get to know each other more closely.</div><div></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAo1o6Ah4_B2lJkfdXjX7V9J7wQRTjjueCR865mdHcVpdurGnxOTIXEfr3xbUmt_Y8eH0ZvLM9_zwlXrleaBmxMXseJ64Ulxi7CqQjADcTlaltiKOh9FjYzSW1JMUU9BNGP334kVB2ElVt/s1600-h/IMG_1765.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132498052727781490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAo1o6Ah4_B2lJkfdXjX7V9J7wQRTjjueCR865mdHcVpdurGnxOTIXEfr3xbUmt_Y8eH0ZvLM9_zwlXrleaBmxMXseJ64Ulxi7CqQjADcTlaltiKOh9FjYzSW1JMUU9BNGP334kVB2ElVt/s320/IMG_1765.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Now, a kid is hounding me to buy weed and all I want to do is write. We leave tommorrow morning at 10:00. $25 each to Moin and then we'll have to deal with a possible immigration fiasco. It is so beautiful here. It's weird being in the same place for more than one night, although the rest has been welcome. I'm starting to think about skiing. I can't wait. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-84945163836943932952007-11-13T16:13:00.000-08:002008-12-09T01:52:28.142-08:00October 22, 2007 Barra del Colorado, Costa Rica<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyl4CX36NrgVcazWwZhyphenhyphen6Uk_D3eZQqEtKpwpfBor0U0OKTdsxhvPlplejLKsxf-S6zzc39gKAy-9GQMSiFthlbp3NjeKINvV7fPIpa6LbgzdQjSFqdHrytvCIqlpIqRkOVwnzbFv8Oy7XX/s1600-h/IMG_1710.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132490708333705234" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyl4CX36NrgVcazWwZhyphenhyphen6Uk_D3eZQqEtKpwpfBor0U0OKTdsxhvPlplejLKsxf-S6zzc39gKAy-9GQMSiFthlbp3NjeKINvV7fPIpa6LbgzdQjSFqdHrytvCIqlpIqRkOVwnzbFv8Oy7XX/s320/IMG_1710.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div>This morning, we woke up and ate gallo pinto for breakfast. I love that dish--especially with Natillo and Salsa Lizano. Abner came in the night before and we left before him in the morning. We crossed the Sarapiqui and checked out with the Costa Rican police and then again across the Rio San Juan to check in again with the Nicaraguan army. It was quite a pain in the ass, but we had to do it their way. </div><br /><br /><div>Without really meaning to, we busted ass to "Delta" by around 11:00 or 11:30. Delta was 22 kilometers from where we had camped at the mouth of the Saraquipi. It was there that we had our "moment of truth"--it was the last place we could get our exit stamp from Nicaragua. At Delta, the river splits. The Rio San Juan proper continued northeast in Nicaragua to San Juan del Norte. The Rio Colorado flows east with the majority of the current to Barra del Colorado in Costa Rica. This had been a point of stress for me the entire trip. In idle moments where Graham and I were not talking while paddling, I found myself thinking about this problem. But all in all, I seemed to have shrugged off my habitual fear of borders and the crossing that inevitably follows. We had so many encounters with government officials that were good natured and helpful that I never seemed to get as worked up as I normally do.</div><br /><br /><div>Anyway, when we arrived at the puesto at "Delta", the Nicaraguan immigration officer absolutely did not want to give us an exit stamp. Absolutely not. Imagining having that power. At that point, we were as powerless as a pair of canoeists trying to paddle upstream. He didn't want to give us the exit stamp mostly because there is no official Costa Rican immigration on the other side of the river. This means we would be entering Costa Rica illegally, like thousands of Nicas do every year. But we explained to him our situation and and he eventually complied, saying, "I'm going to give you the exit stamp, wish you luck, then wash my hands of it." That was nice of him. It was also nice of us to give him $10 each. Now we can only hope that once in Limon we can get an entrance stamp into Costa Rica. If not, we may have to go to Los Chiles again and get the entrance stamp there, because it is one of the two "official" places to cross the border.</div><br /><br /><div>We took the Rio Colorado split, passed the Costa Rican police checkpoint silently and with stealth, and continued east toward Barra del Colorado and the Caribbean. It took us the rest of the day to reach our goal. The river dropped rather quickly and we arrived in town and quickly paddled to the ocean to complete our source-to-sea journey. Man, what a feeling. It's the penultimate sensation of completion. We were looking for a place to get out before hitting the breakers at the rivermouth when we saw a HUGE crocodile that must have been 15 feet long. It scared the shit out of me. Needless to say, we were very carfeul when getting out of the boat to check out the beach. </div><div><br /> </div><div></div><br /><br /><p></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4PVOHN03zJckOQQLsKBJ-BDCXh5wPImvTENRBgjV1gETSgWomxj3mZFXDefkX6J7mgLTwXqIAmzQIYxllkMQ92dynYIvtwC8XP8qfa1mFNTPiqCAZ0ywmCwLIsSvb6m0z_hM10_B-Lnje/s1600-h/IMG_1716.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132490287426910210" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4PVOHN03zJckOQQLsKBJ-BDCXh5wPImvTENRBgjV1gETSgWomxj3mZFXDefkX6J7mgLTwXqIAmzQIYxllkMQ92dynYIvtwC8XP8qfa1mFNTPiqCAZ0ywmCwLIsSvb6m0z_hM10_B-Lnje/s320/IMG_1716.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p></p><div> </div><div>Out in the rivermouth, there was a number of fishing charters with rich Americans, invariably speaking in a drawn out Texan accent, trying to catch the BIG TARPON. It was a bit weird to hear English again. It was the first native English I had spoken since we got to Central America. Weird. We camped on the beach at MINAE (Costa Rica's Ministry of Natural Resources), which was about 2K from town. Graham set up camp while I walked into town to try and call Oscar and organize our pickup in a few days, get some more food, and find us a panga ride to Tortuguero because Graham has started to react very poorly to the sun from his antibiotics. I got back, and we ate the normal rice, beans, and veggies over the fire. We celebrated with a couple nips of Flor de Cana tonight.</div></div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-67890902698328945392007-11-05T07:07:00.000-08:002008-12-09T01:52:29.076-08:00October 21, 2007 Rio Sarapiqui/San Juan Confluence, Nicaragua<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkb0gxZ_1hG26h8HNZWaFmFgu-o0nHAhZ0ZLi5gQ64LIrouZK-IxsP6T_9IK6I1LTH6T2G3GvfE4CLSAbMIiAZxvlh80TsVt4zYfaL0mVdt_OfBoKNb0Vw9i_E3u_DUtAArU0EutUpCCIe/s1600-h/IMG_1689.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129389724135700274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkb0gxZ_1hG26h8HNZWaFmFgu-o0nHAhZ0ZLi5gQ64LIrouZK-IxsP6T_9IK6I1LTH6T2G3GvfE4CLSAbMIiAZxvlh80TsVt4zYfaL0mVdt_OfBoKNb0Vw9i_E3u_DUtAArU0EutUpCCIe/s320/IMG_1689.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2f3FQ54gp-iL0430JO35ZZ3SxGaaAVcZImx2w1QOp8PCFJ9vUZqDjOzjq0C5OwybqbGmWsil3OqlL2-FPL2oqgMQvV6xIjhFAnMVmMajfBk6NBTyIM4onmUcPdILlKJm3AQuyuysrjOH/s1600-h/IMG_1700.JPG"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>We woke up this morning with the sun and had some coffee and <em>pan</em> (bread) with Joel. It rained so hard last night that the river rose about 5 feet. It was a good thing that we were on high ground. As we were about to leave they started preparing equipment to harpoon tarpon. This is illegal on the river, but they didn't seem to mind- especially since an average tarpon weighs 100 lbs. The harpoon heads looked very cool-all made by hand by Joel. Joel and Eduardo went out in one dugout and Eddie and myself paddled our canoe. Graham was crapping and caught up in a dugout later. He looked very comfortable paddling such an ancient vessel. He looked like he belonged paddling in it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQZDL8wOvXq9pkMrrWbJzYIXEl3GRE0f-7DJ3sa54E7c38nmH0KGgeVHey72mkruUtROFwOKgvvVwmg8l9ZcD9cZeCyfTfyt-IZ3-t3VgeWc63O7Z0NRx6Ml0XcN0xFO6uPw2E_L9JhP0/s1600-h/IMG_1683.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129383728361354866" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQZDL8wOvXq9pkMrrWbJzYIXEl3GRE0f-7DJ3sa54E7c38nmH0KGgeVHey72mkruUtROFwOKgvvVwmg8l9ZcD9cZeCyfTfyt-IZ3-t3VgeWc63O7Z0NRx6Ml0XcN0xFO6uPw2E_L9JhP0/s320/IMG_1683.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>I am amazed at the dexterity with which these people paddle their canoes. Even Eddie, at 12 years old, paddles as well, or better than I do. All my Keewaydin friends will all love to hear that the Keewaydin hunch is alive and well on the Rio San Juan. And not because I have introduced it. Paddled along the shore in pensive silence, looking for a tarpon to rise. Joel was standing poised in the dugout, ready to strike at the first fish that he saw. But none came. We returned to the house and Graham and I loaded the boat and left. I gave the boys my deck of cards as a gift since they enjoyed playing cards so much. We didn't leave any money and are now wondering if we should have or, it we did, perhaps it would have created a weird dynamic. Who knows. Maybe we'll send some money with a photo when we get back. I asked Joel to write his address for me so I can send them a letter, and then it dawned on me that he couldn't read or write. I think I embarrassed him since his kids had to tell me how to spell their last name. Oops.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoO5B4Dmqi8J6-LCwB0i6pkwl_UyM8KwyGcNKBnWq41V938C4lFntgwy-XKqaoDKvuJfWIx37GzVj31J-sOo2j2hyphenhyphenY-P9uG0qmaosjb2ja6OTwsahVv_ibVp073o0RSJJSnnXNyHQOfZo/s1600-h/IMG_1692.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129384802103178914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoO5B4Dmqi8J6-LCwB0i6pkwl_UyM8KwyGcNKBnWq41V938C4lFntgwy-XKqaoDKvuJfWIx37GzVj31J-sOo2j2hyphenhyphenY-P9uG0qmaosjb2ja6OTwsahVv_ibVp073o0RSJJSnnXNyHQOfZo/s320/IMG_1692.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiH-A-FsOTmp2NPPCy8ngGcd4y7_n-BghlN6Mxti4_GuPqqpWmKko50nSR2NmakBgqYZhWUwU9KMQZQs_FaMVQR5W0aKiEjzW_LrG0qgVVsljCLnfQCTEEKoC4kq98-H-nZHh5wMpGvqbq/s1600-h/IMG_1682.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129383865800308354" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiH-A-FsOTmp2NPPCy8ngGcd4y7_n-BghlN6Mxti4_GuPqqpWmKko50nSR2NmakBgqYZhWUwU9KMQZQs_FaMVQR5W0aKiEjzW_LrG0qgVVsljCLnfQCTEEKoC4kq98-H-nZHh5wMpGvqbq/s320/IMG_1682.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />When we left, the sun was very strong. Graham was decked out in what we have come to call his "gay hat". Because of his antibiotics, he is extremely sensitive to the sun. We paddled through a part of the river that was perhaps the most picturesque yet. The river curves a lot and there is profound topography abutting the shore. Sloths, tucans, and many other birds abound. We stopped in Boca San Carlos for breakfast and found out that we can't stamp out of Nicaragua until "Delta", where the Rio San Juan splits. Only then can we hope that we will get an entry into Costa Rica in Limon.</div><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmhmYDJShokopDZg_9iriV8o0zI4bz57Mfszlzt9XDGIibj5iEB9H0PimaJI1xgVfAFm04ad62XUmcI-rZlLQ5H5H44ErrYpU66FiuF-0hiqXxy5ZJ3DvZYl0oVP_ExOYT-N9bbq-50-yl/s1600-h/IMG_1693.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129385167175399090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmhmYDJShokopDZg_9iriV8o0zI4bz57Mfszlzt9XDGIibj5iEB9H0PimaJI1xgVfAFm04ad62XUmcI-rZlLQ5H5H44ErrYpU66FiuF-0hiqXxy5ZJ3DvZYl0oVP_ExOYT-N9bbq-50-yl/s200/IMG_1693.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>We continued downriver swiftly due to the rain last night and passed Abner selling some goods on the Costa Rican shore. We stopped for a while, shot the breeze, and continued on our way. 3:00 found us in Sarapiqui; where we checked in once again with the Nicaraguan Army. We camped across the river, on the Tico side, in the yard of a small business. I took a great shower and washed some nasty clothes. The owner let us cook our food in her kitchen. As we ate, Abner showed up for dinner. I guess he is staying here for the night too. </div></div><div><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGVUIbpudy_Ql706qEeGKpHd0bbyufa6ec3lXKY4atV4nSSYRoBI4SbAoWy3q_8-mROTL7rEPOww-rFe_6_E2-KZFH8EUxB8tK3ydoTUeeGMD_ToFQBn3t_dJl70cJc2trbN86g6MHbMy/s1600-h/IMG_1697.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129386850802579154" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGVUIbpudy_Ql706qEeGKpHd0bbyufa6ec3lXKY4atV4nSSYRoBI4SbAoWy3q_8-mROTL7rEPOww-rFe_6_E2-KZFH8EUxB8tK3ydoTUeeGMD_ToFQBn3t_dJl70cJc2trbN86g6MHbMy/s200/IMG_1697.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>I love the culture of this river- everyone knows everyone and these people are incredibly nice. It's weird seeing development on the Tico side and then looking across the river to the Nica side, which is pure jungle. Asi es. Tired at 7:00 and finding sleep a relatively easy goal.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-31558807846428858842007-11-03T17:34:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:52:29.518-08:00October 20, 2007 Finca de Joel Romero-Telles, Rio San Juan, Nicaragua<div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGV9Kf-qQFL4MxchOPcYSIt0Uh7s3wiCc1WKpJdYAQt-A4Yt9-7rVzgqW7cckio97MSzQqzN0ogDhOTOGKH1k7Q1jkLvjaEKjEeE6ClKQcSwzA90uF-bz0B1l_TvypqWC_PZTc8HjharV/s1600-h/IMG_1624.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128785920453359154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGV9Kf-qQFL4MxchOPcYSIt0Uh7s3wiCc1WKpJdYAQt-A4Yt9-7rVzgqW7cckio97MSzQqzN0ogDhOTOGKH1k7Q1jkLvjaEKjEeE6ClKQcSwzA90uF-bz0B1l_TvypqWC_PZTc8HjharV/s320/IMG_1624.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Today we mostly paddled and loved every minute of it. We left El Castillo this morning after obtaining a "zarpe" from the soldier, and then we were off. We ran the rapids at El Castillo without a hitch and continued downstream. The river here has taken on a much different character- the shores are more mountainous and so the river has constricted a bit, creating a swift current. We encountered 3 or 4 rapids today (CI and CII) that really diversified the experience. Still no luck with the fish although we did have some bites. I do not know what we have been doing wrong. I guess our flies are wrong.<br /></div><div>So we paddled all day long, taking a few breaks for lunch, fishing, and swimming. The later stopped once Graham saw a 10 ft. crocodile. Now, the river is really the border between Costa Rica and Nicaragua. On the Nicaraguan side, the land belongs to a reserve that extend all the way to the ocean and backs into the interior. On the Costa Rican side, the shore consists of fincas--mostly Nicaraguans working the land for Tico owners. Everyone says hi to us, and wants to kow where we came from, and where we're going.<br /></div><div>We saw two sloths today in the trees, and as always, a plethora of howler monkeys, birds, and fish jumping out of the water, not eating our flies...ARGG!! If we had bacon on this trip, I'd sacrifice an entire slab to catch 1 snook.</div><div> </div><div>Last night when we talked with Abner, he told us many useful thing. A few scared the shit out of me. </div><div> </div><div>1. 25 people every year die from snake bites in the river corridor. The hospital in San Carlos is almost always filled with people suffering from a bite from one of the 20 venemous snakes in the area. Crazy.<br /></div><div>2. There are tigers living in the region that routinely kill cows.<br /></div><div>3. 2 Kids last year got eaten by a crocodile. Dead. Gone. Never to be seen again.<br /></div><div>Aside from the scary stuff, Abner told us that we would have no problem finding someone who would allow us to stay on their fincas. He was right; we asked Joel if we could stay here and he didn't hesitate to say yes. His finca overlooks a beautiful bend in the river, where he lives with his two children. We followed Eddy, his son, around earlier as he was checking his shrimp traps. The shrimp here are huge- the size of a lobster. Each shrimp is enough to feed one person. I paddled Eddy's dugout canoe back to the house. It tracks very nicely. All the people here have such beautiful paddle strokes-its very cool to see.<br /></div><div></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRKfifKpghckdHAARJpMiQ3uOYU044gsjfK0HZTJnnTJvELtnx4XjJnWXYEjv_G6ULjslVRsyshAJZwX_DkY5zo_zUY9pk4oLLEWFZQOsVA3l9yzH_yNy3CgERKWPAWU9lZhoR0FADxdle/s1600-h/IMG_1680.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128786328475252306" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRKfifKpghckdHAARJpMiQ3uOYU044gsjfK0HZTJnnTJvELtnx4XjJnWXYEjv_G6ULjslVRsyshAJZwX_DkY5zo_zUY9pk4oLLEWFZQOsVA3l9yzH_yNy3CgERKWPAWU9lZhoR0FADxdle/s320/IMG_1680.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBIWsB-cyzKhbzkHGhNl10XeIhY-cPr2eTV_eKbDzLJyOLUccS8rEn3a68Gx94ecAx6yNG9UWNb8m0R2ND2aAF4iFw-UA0BdnCfc7zsoPDUSvqpuXWe3Werxco_wxezLbMM-PWxtLvVO-9/s1600-h/IMG_1676.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128786152381593154" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBIWsB-cyzKhbzkHGhNl10XeIhY-cPr2eTV_eKbDzLJyOLUccS8rEn3a68Gx94ecAx6yNG9UWNb8m0R2ND2aAF4iFw-UA0BdnCfc7zsoPDUSvqpuXWe3Werxco_wxezLbMM-PWxtLvVO-9/s320/IMG_1676.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>It was nice to have a roof over our head during the rain. It rained soo hard. Staying with these people has been one of the coolest experiences of this trip. The house is very small, probably no bigger than my room at home- and inside fits 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, and a porch, where we are sleeping. The roof is made of thatch, from palm leaves. Joel says, it last for tenty years and only takes a week for 3 people to erect. There is no electricity here and the only luxury they have is a battery-powered radio and a samll pocket of candy, which they offered to us. They cook using a wood stove/oven, similar to the one I saw people use on Lake Titicaca, Peru.<br /></div><div>These three are as poor as I have ever seen, but very happy- even though their mother left. The children are playing constantly despite the rain; in and out of the river, swiiming , paddling, and climbing on the roof. We broke out some cards and it was a bitg hit. "WAR" was the most popular. Crazy 8's not so much. Here, they have about 70 cows, most of which they use for makeing cheese. There are some fruit trees and chickens and pigs, too. I did not notice much food in the kitchen. We contributed rice and vegetables for dinner. It was very good.</div><div> </div><div>Eduardo taught Graham how to properly sharpen a machete since ours were hopelessly dull. Now they will cut nicely.<br /></div><div>Joel and his family lead a very simple life. With such simplicity, comes a satisfaction that many Americans will never know. Tommorrow we'll pass through Boca San Carlos, Costa Rica in the morning and if we're lucky, be able to stamp out of Nicaragua and stamp back into Costa Rica. The soldier at El Castillo said it would be possible. If that's true, it would be fantastic. Then we wouldn't even have to go to immigration in Limon! More ground to cover tommorrow. I'm very tired now. I'm falling asleep as I write this.</div></div></div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-92229160841231647992007-10-29T15:55:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:52:30.166-08:00October 19, 2007 El Castillo, Rio San Juan, Nicaragua<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0KAEEE-kNWv-9a4d8R0CbB2NOKG3WUV4-9VQ91M0iIywdEBw88A5Nk8GVJTyw03epBZhinKiSrBbxhZScu0xCq7s0UPAByH336wPMD5VYdvEmokCveZANNZXl-_iwnKBkSM_4DN-1MUy/s1600-h/IMG_1616.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126921715668334114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0KAEEE-kNWv-9a4d8R0CbB2NOKG3WUV4-9VQ91M0iIywdEBw88A5Nk8GVJTyw03epBZhinKiSrBbxhZScu0xCq7s0UPAByH336wPMD5VYdvEmokCveZANNZXl-_iwnKBkSM_4DN-1MUy/s320/IMG_1616.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today was a good day, even though we didn't catch any fish. Not for want of trying though. Nor was there a lack of fish trying their best to jump inside the boat. It is frustrating. I thought this trip would be partly about good fishing, but now it's more about poor fishing, or more aptly put, poor fishermen. I woke up this morning to a cacophony of howler monkeys and birds--what a surprise. They sounded like they were almost inside our tent. In the middle of the night, Graham woke me up to show me a spider the size of my hand crawling on the outside of the tent. </div><div><br />We had a little trouble with the fire yesterday, getting it to coals, but this morning it seems like we figured it out. We now know what kind of wood to look for, what burns best, and the best way to use our machetes to cut wood. For breakfast, refried rice and beans and some coffee. Mmmm. </div><div> </div><div>The paddling today was great--the river has picked up its pace a bit and we saw a lot more people paddling around in dugout canoes. It's very refreshing to be admist a culture of canoeists using their craft as a tool for their way of life, not merely recreation. The paddle style I see everyone using is very well made, of hard, dense wood. It's short, mostly because of the lack of freeboard in the dugouts. The whole setup makes for a very easy, smooth paddle stroke. Even the young children here paddle with an ease that is a lot like the Cree of Northern Quebec. We paddled next to a man paddling downstream with his family and talked to him for a while. He said he made his canoe himself, carving it out by hand, using tools as well as fire. The whole process took 15 days. Life here is simple, slow, and totally dependent on the river. Fishing seems to permeate all aspects of life. </div><div><br />We stopped in Rio Sabalos for a rest and both Graham and I swam for the second time. Swimming in the river was big step for us, taking us out of our comfort zone. In doing so though, I feel that we have invited the river into our souls. It's funny, without knowing, I've just described a baptismal event. Not that was what was happening. Perhaps so, though. This river has power. </div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0faMpMURMAsdEtnvbrG6AYY7qWsxAcZhx0HwANYKB1_o_TBFqAtLMZCp1GC9-dap5C_OBiqZDp8k3bJwn5xRN9brOClHHZLK2o4LJNH0hVJrpL2TO9h3ThXKQcwUQ0pUynD6b6rPV3M_/s1600-h/IMG_1660.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126920367048603138" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0faMpMURMAsdEtnvbrG6AYY7qWsxAcZhx0HwANYKB1_o_TBFqAtLMZCp1GC9-dap5C_OBiqZDp8k3bJwn5xRN9brOClHHZLK2o4LJNH0hVJrpL2TO9h3ThXKQcwUQ0pUynD6b6rPV3M_/s320/IMG_1660.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div>We got to the pueblo of El Castillo around 3:00 and found a hotel on the river that would let us stowe the boat. $5 for the both of us. Cheap as hell. We went up to look at the fort which this town was named. El Castillo was built in 1647 by the Spnaish and since then, has been a point of contention. Many battles have been fought here between pirates, English, Spanish, Moskito Indians, and even Sandanistas and guerillas during the civil war. It is beautiful. We got a great view of the river from the top of the fort. Very much unlike any other place I have been to in the world. There is a rapid here that we will run tommorrow; Class II with waves, should be fun. There aren't too many mosquitoes so far, so that makes me happy. If I go home without malaria, that will be an added bonus.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QcVy5DiWh1WgK2445FcGmAuGpVnQAX5107LWxROVqu_LE4lDjPsk8zIxLYARKX92sHU0Sn-6QYf2cBJ7KI8ZkOGICVwJJvnz4XRPlNW7oDSSXGzcBsJZlCQdS26m3QKRCjKt_hXxzbuN/s1600-h/IMG_1654.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126920027746186722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QcVy5DiWh1WgK2445FcGmAuGpVnQAX5107LWxROVqu_LE4lDjPsk8zIxLYARKX92sHU0Sn-6QYf2cBJ7KI8ZkOGICVwJJvnz4XRPlNW7oDSSXGzcBsJZlCQdS26m3QKRCjKt_hXxzbuN/s320/IMG_1654.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlS99wAdoSIa8sNz8DUyMJH6EHUnnDA0VkbnIySlOmFV81XROsG-WDq7aJgAVeGYJqp7t8WJBNcVmjPU-xmW3bSzjsjH0PbKFDJIg92qvS3yiClyBkUiLeuMC5bswBOWbHsY79rwXMfePQ/s1600-h/IMG_1641.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126919821587756498" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlS99wAdoSIa8sNz8DUyMJH6EHUnnDA0VkbnIySlOmFV81XROsG-WDq7aJgAVeGYJqp7t8WJBNcVmjPU-xmW3bSzjsjH0PbKFDJIg92qvS3yiClyBkUiLeuMC5bswBOWbHsY79rwXMfePQ/s320/IMG_1641.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhMTKrJVmGbOxMqrVIRQZAl_I4dm-pG4mdHlHrEMefOa_ZTCagYqT3NPHi2_WT00KzrzF88dg5qtfQL2plNZm0hZYSn5lj_5aDBzU3zWcdP78YXO8aD7CQqgtgDHNQF77-DD5EWok9wkf/s1600-h/IMG_1665.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126920727825856018" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDhMTKrJVmGbOxMqrVIRQZAl_I4dm-pG4mdHlHrEMefOa_ZTCagYqT3NPHi2_WT00KzrzF88dg5qtfQL2plNZm0hZYSn5lj_5aDBzU3zWcdP78YXO8aD7CQqgtgDHNQF77-DD5EWok9wkf/s320/IMG_1665.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><div>We seem to have generated a bit of fame during the course of our paddle down the river. It seems that not too many people have done what we are attempting to do, if any. Everyone pretty much knew who we were before we arrived in town. I think that the way in which we are traveling has given us some street credit and people are more open to us. We hope to meet Oscar's friend, Abner here and find out some more information about the San Juan downstream of El Castillo. My impression is that it is not very well traveled and we will see less and less people, at least on the Nicaraguan side, where the Indio-Maiz Reserve is, spreading all the way to the Coast and North, encompassing an enormous percentage of the country. We're not even supposed to set foot on the land. Oops.<br /><br />The downside to our newly acquired celebrity status is that it has given us some unintentional transparency with the government officials. Earlier, I was called down by the owner of the hotel.<br /><br />"Senor," she said, "Hay un hombre del ejercito al frente que quire hablar con tigo." ("Sir, there's a man from the army out front that wants to talk to you.")<br /><br />My throat got dry and squeaky. As I introduced myself, I hoped he was as nice as Herman, Arbelo and Darwin. He wanted to see our permit for traveling on the river, our "zarpe", which we did not have. This time, he didn't ask for cigarettes. Instead, he said he'd have one ready for us in the morning at 7:00. It would just cost us $5.<br /><br />I'm off now to refill on vegetalbes for the rest of the trip. I need to eat some dinner, perhaps drink a beer, and rest my weary sunburned body.</div><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgwzCe0JrIF-FuPAYnu4UVrf0gn0XCF1GQc3-l1BSnIyWbk2BdaejTrn-sU2XJi8e0vmrpDcYfVBQoz4lmXGcp3rFfzSsphaHrwSHKd23cJojamCgEzExstI2QxQZIJBZ4ReOTsCZN0cDW/s1600-h/IMG_1657.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126920199544878578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgwzCe0JrIF-FuPAYnu4UVrf0gn0XCF1GQc3-l1BSnIyWbk2BdaejTrn-sU2XJi8e0vmrpDcYfVBQoz4lmXGcp3rFfzSsphaHrwSHKd23cJojamCgEzExstI2QxQZIJBZ4ReOTsCZN0cDW/s320/IMG_1657.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><div>.</div></div></div></div></div></div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-61553064206935810642007-10-28T08:32:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:52:30.757-08:00October 18, 2007 Isla Grande, Rio San Juan, Nicaragua<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIb3r00LPBbxK977p0Js9PwsiU3rYn1vF_27rlwWezIcSlRZ0ARCd2oZaaivyxvLSbj27ML1TxMjEbqhDnbzetxZ65KqwSR9SxuOp2YQx17bMd1VZE5Pyji7f1Q82ANS10mbrd0n2ir0k/s1600-h/IMG_1578.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126895482008089986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIb3r00LPBbxK977p0Js9PwsiU3rYn1vF_27rlwWezIcSlRZ0ARCd2oZaaivyxvLSbj27ML1TxMjEbqhDnbzetxZ65KqwSR9SxuOp2YQx17bMd1VZE5Pyji7f1Q82ANS10mbrd0n2ir0k/s320/IMG_1578.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>This morning, I watched the fisherman come back into town after fishing all night. Each produced quite a bounty of guapote, a fish smaller than a snook, which is illegal to sell this time of year. I'm guessing it is because the large snook run is happening now. All the fish went straight to the market or to the restaurant next door, where Willy workes. Then, once the work was finished, the fishermen took their sons out fishing, using fixed-line poles instead of nets.<br /><br />We left San Carlos around 8 am and started paddling downstream. There is quite a bit of boat traffic, mostly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pangas</span> going in between San Carlos and El Castillo. We're planning on being in El Castillo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">tommorrow</span> night. Soon after we left San Carlos, we were eager to start fishing, so we rigged up the 9 weight road and since I was in the bow today, started fishing. After 2 hours of fishing and probably 15 different flies fished at different depths, I was still skunked. And makes it even more frustrating is that all day, everywhere, fish were rising in the river. A HUGE tarpon rose not 4 feet from our boat. It scared the shit out of me. I only saw its tail, but it was enormous. There are <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">snook</span> everywhere too. Right now, as I write by the fireside awaiting dinner, I can hear them in the river, mocking me. I saw a gar today too, and while I can't be sure, I might have seen a manatee. I hear they are in the river, too, and I can't imagine what I saw to be anything else. A big <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">rotundas being rose ever so slowly and for a little while, exposing little. Forever a mystery, I guess.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65LJvGz64XX36F0eR_VcAG2vixS5F2c9ASTo8lEqPxDmOtn53w20SrAu-VTEZMIbEwRe5NH4i8r2wSwzuYbHjifruvV-DXTvYIUYGrSw5oqCVfSXEMHMRqTzgVWr6K0fBzmsmMN9ENnGG/s1600-h/IMG_1582.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126893162725750066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65LJvGz64XX36F0eR_VcAG2vixS5F2c9ASTo8lEqPxDmOtn53w20SrAu-VTEZMIbEwRe5NH4i8r2wSwzuYbHjifruvV-DXTvYIUYGrSw5oqCVfSXEMHMRqTzgVWr6K0fBzmsmMN9ENnGG/s320/IMG_1582.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />As always, there ar howler monkeys. If I had never seen or heard them before, I would be quite scared of them. We saw a ton of birds today as well. Around every corner is an egret or a blue heron. They produce some lovely sounds that serve to soothe the soul while paddling. No snakes yet, and I'm crossing my fingers that it stays that way.<br /><br />Around noon, we stopped on the shore to say hi to some Nicas on their finca and ask about the fishing, since we were hopelessly without luck. We pulled up to their finca and immediately saw some snook (they call them robâlo) hanging up to dry, because they have no refridgeration or electricty here. Very primitive living. So we met Luis and his friends and talked for about an hour. The snook hanging on the line had been caught that morning when they went spearfishing. Crazy. It was a great experience to see how these campesinos live their lives, even for a fleeting moment. They keep cows and subsistence farm for corn, beans, and rice. They don't produce enough to sell at market in San Carlos.<br /><br />The poverty here is pervasive. I am amazed at how often I am asked the value of our possessions. My shoes, my shirt, my rain jacket, the canoe, my camera, cars, etc. It has put me in a reflective mood, highlighting just how priveledged and rich we are and how much of our daily lives we take for granted. The Nicas work inexplicably hard- in no way are they lazy- and they barely survive on what they can produce from the land. And here we are, paddling down this river, the lifeblood of the region, in a canoe filled with equipment that probably costs more than they make in two years. It is very humbling and makes one almost resentful of such a chasm between two human beings. Because, when it comes down to it, we laugh at the same jokes, chase women with the same tenacity, and enjoy a beer just as much as the other.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbV_p3FLZ0Y6rI3a754cn68dLeEa5XmnoXfqJvmPKAEhjVDXZWRjkih6X0ricVArCH01OljASsLuHVm-YzyLiUdSMpkRCuMpI-A-2pK_xc0Aqj_-L8uOl-st4pvLnAxgHAkOGvItV8mstX/s1600-h/IMG_1595.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126894644489467234" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbV_p3FLZ0Y6rI3a754cn68dLeEa5XmnoXfqJvmPKAEhjVDXZWRjkih6X0ricVArCH01OljASsLuHVm-YzyLiUdSMpkRCuMpI-A-2pK_xc0Aqj_-L8uOl-st4pvLnAxgHAkOGvItV8mstX/s320/IMG_1595.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />It appears that down here, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">birthplace</span> is synonomous with <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">birthright</span> or <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">entitlement</span>. Luis and his crew wanted to know if we would take one of the kids back to the U.S. with us. I told him, "I can barely take care of myself, let alone a child." It was a good way for me to dodge a tricky situation, I thought. Luis is 19 and completely content. Lucky for him. Unlike most American 19 to 20-something year olds, he lives a life inherently simple, free from the stress of "making something of himself", or "finding himself". I guess when you are spearfishing for dinner, you don't really have the time or the need for existential problems.<br /><br />We left Luis after showing them how to cast a fly-rod, which they found to be very beautiful. We continued downstream, gliding along like a bird riding thermals, following the strong current through every curve of the river. The shores are a mixture of low-lying mangrove-like trees, grassy fincas, and palms. Monkeys escond themselves high in the canopy, jumping from limb to limb. The sun is brutal. We are red, despite the application of sunblock. As we paddled, we passed two guys hiding in the jungle. They said as we waved a hello, "Por favor, no digan nada, somos illegales." ("Please, don't say anything, we are illegals") These Nicas were trying to illegally enter Costa Rica, (a few kilometers south through the jungle) in search of work.<br /><br />We pulled into Isla Grande around 3.30, which is about 35 kilometers downstream of San Carlos, and halfway to El Castillo. We set off to make camp before the skies opened up. Firewood is a bit of a bitch because most of the dead wood rots too quickly. We made it work though, and now have identified the best wood to start fires for tommorrow's breakfast fire. It rained all afternoon, but we didn't feel it at all because we were underneath the canopy. For dinner, burnt rice and beans with an appetizer of onion, platano, tomato, and chile. It was delicous. Now we lay in the tent, sweating, praying for the rain and wind to come, cooling us off.<br /></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-16739806126761550302007-10-27T10:49:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:52:31.506-08:00October 17, 2007 San Carlos, Nicaragua<div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiw7sDn8Dh3SAmFTqHG27A08zzKSYQOHcKXLSzzw_0wJNVhOuJ8EmknZV3RSoEeMghKa7J-pNHbe2o-vA4-lcWcBKSdw3ZpNr9PPsbMwkdutmu_I7KTeX2lSH1gXGh3-EVSFDeHLMw92_/s1600-h/IMG_1552.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126889915730474194" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiw7sDn8Dh3SAmFTqHG27A08zzKSYQOHcKXLSzzw_0wJNVhOuJ8EmknZV3RSoEeMghKa7J-pNHbe2o-vA4-lcWcBKSdw3ZpNr9PPsbMwkdutmu_I7KTeX2lSH1gXGh3-EVSFDeHLMw92_/s320/IMG_1552.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Today we started our trip "en realidad". Last night, I went out in La Fortuna with some of the guides from Canoa Adventura (the company that is renting us the boat) and had a blast. I was the only gringo in the bar-it was fantastic. Also, I have become hopelessly enfatuated with Marizella, a girl that works at Canoa Aventura. She is so beautiful and moreover, I'd be hard-pressed to find a nicer person on this earth.<br /><br />Oscar, the owner of Canoa Aventura, gave us a great deal. Those guys are the tits. This morning, our new Tico friend, Marlon, took us to Los Chiles, CR, and we put in finally, to el Rio Frio, which crosses into Nicaragua.<br /><br />There is a little station on the border where Nicaraguan soldiers were stationed to see who was crossing the river. They stopped us and asked for our papers, the "zarpe", to be exact. This was a little piece of paper that would give us permission to be traveling on the river, if we had had one. Which, of course, we didn't. How were we supposed to know? We ended up hanging out on the border-which was nothing more than a dock and a barracks for 6 soldiers or so, for two hours, waiting out the rain and chilling with the Nicaraguan soldiers. Their names were Hernan, Arbelo, Darwin, all just kids out of high school, except their boss, who was visibly trying to bear a resemblance to Che Guevara. The look didn't work, but the intimadation did. It was a bit chilling trying to hold a conversation with a dude holding a loaded AK-47, who happened to also be speaking the most uneducated Spanish I had heard yet. The funny thing was, these guys were nice. I didn't expect that at all. They hinted that if we sent some money (to pay for their cigarette resupply) with the next panga going upriver, they would let us pass. And so it was with my first unofficial bribing of officials. They gave us a bunch of delicious oranges to take with us. The peel is green, which totally reverses all my previous perceptions of the fruit we call "orange". I wish that they would have let me take their photo. Strict rules in Nicaragua.</div><div><div><div><div></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoIT3caeumKcKmQvo7yiZIu4JtoocIrP1HukOVR9HqUYVQF97XB0izzcVBylV-i5hXVLKkp-awuybNvinjYbfg4Dpf2whl83-S1Db7XIE2Vk0ZBA_-5EF9JBxqI0wtwzKG9fnuXTpEt-yZ/s1600-h/IMG_1557.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126889490528711874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoIT3caeumKcKmQvo7yiZIu4JtoocIrP1HukOVR9HqUYVQF97XB0izzcVBylV-i5hXVLKkp-awuybNvinjYbfg4Dpf2whl83-S1Db7XIE2Vk0ZBA_-5EF9JBxqI0wtwzKG9fnuXTpEt-yZ/s320/IMG_1557.JPG" border="0" /></a> <br /><div><br /><br />I am amazed at how much wildlife there has been. I don't think we paddled more than 5 minutes without hearing the abrasive, guttural grunt of howler monkeys. We saw caimans, iguanas, spider monkeys, howlers, and so many birds that I can't even try to remember. </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXZNyBTRH1J1DVe2ZfW9Jf9862WrUPh9YGyQsDs9Vhrv_l85YU5tBAu0uLdimCQq4w5WRDmhUTZWGUGuDM4i8OQXwyB3k83ZumwRRY2vdvXqrr7p0MydEg-GFUi2O7GDKGU22YIO51Tj9/s1600-h/IMG_1539.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126887948635452562" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXZNyBTRH1J1DVe2ZfW9Jf9862WrUPh9YGyQsDs9Vhrv_l85YU5tBAu0uLdimCQq4w5WRDmhUTZWGUGuDM4i8OQXwyB3k83ZumwRRY2vdvXqrr7p0MydEg-GFUi2O7GDKGU22YIO51Tj9/s320/IMG_1539.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauFDUchIkRteHLyCSlMVPZksvfSCbBc-xI0KuIN-FA7eMTXnA8b0DeaJ9XPszOlO0f58TKCCRc5ePbCqWpGR0KV8UQBMhE6FoenXSezajPeybAaMEqMe7HVOiRe2PHiCjU_cZOeBU0aV5/s1600-h/IMG_1547.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126890315162432738" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauFDUchIkRteHLyCSlMVPZksvfSCbBc-xI0KuIN-FA7eMTXnA8b0DeaJ9XPszOlO0f58TKCCRc5ePbCqWpGR0KV8UQBMhE6FoenXSezajPeybAaMEqMe7HVOiRe2PHiCjU_cZOeBU0aV5/s320/IMG_1547.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />So, the fish are here. In the thousands. Fish were busting everywhere as we were paddling, jumping out of the water and making a big production out of their dinner. I am so excited to start fishing tommorrow. I think we'll catch a lot of snook.<br /><br />The Rio Frio flows into the southeast corner of Lake Nicaragua, of which we met with the habitual afternoon rain. In the custom of the Cree, we left an offering of tobbacco, in hopes that the new river will be kind to us. San Carlos, Nicaragua is 2k across the mouth and at the egress of the San Juan. We got to San Carlos at 3.30 or 4 and had no problem with immigration, which was a relief. We are now officially in Nicaragua. We couldn't find Norman, the man from MARENA who was going to give us fishing licenses, so I guess we'll fish anyway, illegally, and discreetly. We went to the market and stocked up on food for the remainder of the trip--rice, beans, cookies, coffee, onion, apple, yuca, platanos, limon, chiles, tomatoes, and cornmeal, to cook our snook with.<br /><br />We're staying at a hotel right on the river and a guy we just met at the local bar is watching the boat tonight-- I hope. I'm amazed at how wonderfully nice everyone is here. It seems like they actually want us to be here, and that they don't view us as a large dollar sign, as many people do in Costa Rica. Our waiter at dinner, whose name was "Willy", is a great guy--he gave us a bunch of fishing tips and information about the river. We're going to meet him in the morning for breakfast. I can't wait to go fishing tommorrow. We'll be in El Castillo in 2 days.<br /><br />The difference between Nicaragua and Costa Rica is startling. Nicaragua is very poor, but I feel like the people are nicer and more genuine than in Costa Rica. Not that the Ticos are not that way. Willy let us store our canoe at his restaurant and he also offered to take us fishing. He told us a cool trick for catching tarpon-- catch some sardines in a net, then crush them in our hands and put our flies all in there, soaking up the smell of the baitfish. That way, the tarpon will smell the bait and be more prone to bite. Because the water is so murky, they say they hunt by smell more than sight. It may be harder to catch fish on a fly than we had thought.<br /><br />The people here in San Carlos have faces that are happy even despite the civil war that devastated this area. A couple islands on the lake were totally destroyed. Lake Nicaragua is amazing- it is huge, backlit by volcanoes to the west, horizon to the north, Costa Rica to the south, and east.... the river. El Rio San Juan. For us right now, east means "the unknown". It has never had that kind of connotation for me, ever. Here the frontier is eastward.<br /><br />The hotel is comfortable enough, pretty standard fare for San Carlos. Our room was $4 for the night.Wood platform beds with a thin, musty cushion. Toilets are nothing but a hole in the ground with a bucket of water next to the toilet used for "manual flushing". There is no shame, or room for it here. We love it. Graham was saying today that we exist and thrive, where other travelers stop short. San Carlos is definently not on the beaten track. </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiUdR40ESmWMzLMr7QYvomFLEn8V5spnKJkIJH0Rw7nh8-jn7OdOSEoVOfhyphenhyphenoKkIQxGokY1QtOI7-BPpX03gQuYDCRCZ2Hvt6qxIEYsRb06WVM0z0uXVYL70r_wOaYjFGXXXKtjsnAfQG/s1600-h/IMG_1570.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126891242875368690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiUdR40ESmWMzLMr7QYvomFLEn8V5spnKJkIJH0Rw7nh8-jn7OdOSEoVOfhyphenhyphenoKkIQxGokY1QtOI7-BPpX03gQuYDCRCZ2Hvt6qxIEYsRb06WVM0z0uXVYL70r_wOaYjFGXXXKtjsnAfQG/s320/IMG_1570.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2NxyEWj6u-pr4mQk5HfScRBcGqYqf-u_5TSHZ7L5mto5yH-FHGOFg_7IyriyPKP-f7hAxfY4gUOf8uCrjNyrarwH-5V0WxlHNGEbUy5DwUFDf2eyC-XnWA7SR2daouIfmoh7VVshw6ds/s1600-h/IMG_1572.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126891517753275650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2NxyEWj6u-pr4mQk5HfScRBcGqYqf-u_5TSHZ7L5mto5yH-FHGOFg_7IyriyPKP-f7hAxfY4gUOf8uCrjNyrarwH-5V0WxlHNGEbUy5DwUFDf2eyC-XnWA7SR2daouIfmoh7VVshw6ds/s320/IMG_1572.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />There are soldiers everywhere in Nicaragua. A little unsettling. I guess its a holdback from the civil war. While walking to the market, we saw some guys playing checkers with bottle caps. It started raining at 12.30, and didn't stop until after I went to sleep. We tried their rum, Flor de Caña. It is the best rum I have ever had. I need to bring a bottle back. Man, Nicaragua is amazing. Tommorrow, we'll wet our paddles on the San Juan and leave behind what civilization there is in this frontier border town.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-86306624124817758702007-10-27T10:26:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:52:31.830-08:00October 16, 2007 La Fortuna, Costa Rica.<div>Fanta-- Abre tu imaginacion<br /><br />I arrived yesterday and after wading through immigration for 2 hours, found myself a taxista outside of Juan Santamaria Airport, after navigating around the hordes of wanna-be surfer globetrotters forming a blockade at the airport exit. The pirata allowed me to bargain him down low enough for me to abandon the idea of taking the bus. When we got to his car, it wouldn´t start, so I got out and we push-started the car. I said he better give me a discount for the extra effort involved. He did. What an interesting way to start my return to Central America. I do not know if it is indicative of things to come on our trip. It could be a good omen of the resourcefulness of a traveler, or just as easily the beginning of a string of misfortunate events spurred by luck. Only time will tell.<br /><br />I went to the ACM in San Pedro yesterday and said hi to some students from CC, but more importantly, surprised the hell out of Alejandra, Yvette, and Judith. Alejandra almost had a heart attack, poor woman. It was great to see them. I think they were equally as excited to see me.<br /><br />The weather around here is a bit of a worry- last week, it rained solid for 5 days. Guanacaste is flooding. The Panamerican Highway has washed out in some places, and several tourist destinations, like Monteverde, are impossible to get in or out of. I wonder what this will mean for us up north. I have been hearing that they have been having a dry winter, which would help our cause considerably. My biggest worry about this trip is not the weather, or the multitude of insects and animals that could potentially harm us; but rather, the border relations between Costa Rica and Nicaragua. They are perpetually fighting over the rights to the San Juan River. As it stands, Nicaragua owns it outright--so we are going through all the necessary government agencies in Nicaragua. I just hope the Nicaraguan soldiers guarding the border don't pay much attention to two canoeists on the river. I guess the Costa Rican border patrol is quite active on the river becasue of the increasing number of Nicas illegally entering Costa Rica.<br /><br />Yesterday we picked up two machetes at the hardware store. Who knows what we'll end up using them for, but they make us look cool walking down the streets of San Jose. Funny, no one tried to mug us.<br /><br />Graham and I are very excited to actually start our trip- giddy with anticipation of what we might find on a river that straddles two worlds and flows deep into the heart of the rainforest.<br /><br />We're on the bus now and you know, it's funny what you remember and what you forget. I am just now remember ing how uncomfortable some of these bus seasts are. My knees are unable to find any resting point other than the hard plastic of the seat in front of me. Bus etiquette and traveling is always a bittersweet adventure in itself. Once you get over its inherent discomfort, you become privy to a true crossection of life, especially in Central America, since everyone takes the bus. Right now, I must be the only person on the bus without someone sitting next to them (preferably an overweight middle-aged female with hair glistening from the application of grease and an overpowering smell of cheap perfume)--sometimes it's nice being a gringo here. It could be a very long ride. We're going to La Fortuna, where we'll meet up with Oscar and hopefully clear up some of our uncertainties.<br /><br />Graham and I tumped our duffels togther this morning. San Jose, CR, is probably the last place I would have ever expected to find a double-pack. </div><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzZ3dTKbAmYNKfhcmhULS1uxIAFJrvnmK-LqPyXlG3lBOOSYiI5C6I7EeTyJqgxdlwGkivhBO9w0a17WG9z0dSy4_xdH5S6c11OfATV7dQXvv-sq2zfx7TJuvrnfJwASbTaE2kkPn_EWgl/s1600-h/IMG_1526.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126885865576313970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzZ3dTKbAmYNKfhcmhULS1uxIAFJrvnmK-LqPyXlG3lBOOSYiI5C6I7EeTyJqgxdlwGkivhBO9w0a17WG9z0dSy4_xdH5S6c11OfATV7dQXvv-sq2zfx7TJuvrnfJwASbTaE2kkPn_EWgl/s320/IMG_1526.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk2TKFNxP6ck3GpqQXJYDPwhVaSEgqp2FDdOocZs5kXsiu55M4nfEcbkwCy6JJia6NM1Pr_Af_3KIXe6Qh8jwo86YWV-wQWs0bBqRgOt5lTqvFpdoYIuJvvqETvFq_DcmYhr1avCS4u5cv/s1600-h/IMG_1530.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126886788994282626" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk2TKFNxP6ck3GpqQXJYDPwhVaSEgqp2FDdOocZs5kXsiu55M4nfEcbkwCy6JJia6NM1Pr_Af_3KIXe6Qh8jwo86YWV-wQWs0bBqRgOt5lTqvFpdoYIuJvvqETvFq_DcmYhr1avCS4u5cv/s320/IMG_1530.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div><br />I saw a stray dog shit in the middle of a sidewalk this morning. I couldn't stop laughing for over 5 minutes.</div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-30432489421776430982007-10-12T14:26:00.001-07:002008-12-09T01:52:32.124-08:00Jumping Off<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA31m6IVoGoFgJmK9fMnMBIlzqjl0CZm1TzUSBx2eC_0kyFfzpDyI86e3qijQ-nQwgLxZ3pJx6n7EOBLymoHL1LfrN0KxqlZwQVBwK46LDQR9aiQs66n8rkai0ikpDU5CcQucvRzHMj7Fj/s1600-h/IMG_7250_1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120569426095385490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA31m6IVoGoFgJmK9fMnMBIlzqjl0CZm1TzUSBx2eC_0kyFfzpDyI86e3qijQ-nQwgLxZ3pJx6n7EOBLymoHL1LfrN0KxqlZwQVBwK46LDQR9aiQs66n8rkai0ikpDU5CcQucvRzHMj7Fj/s320/IMG_7250_1.JPG" border="0" /></a> <em>Dakota</em><br /><br /><div>So I am at my parent's house right now and they have this cute new puppy, which they have named Dakota. I think they should name it Nip. It bites everything, and loves to nip at my feet. It has been a while since I have had a puppy, so it's been fun the past week. I can't believe how much she craps. It's like she was produced just to eat, drink, crap, and piss.<br /></div><br /><div>Of course, my parents have given her a mountain of toys to chose from. Much to the chargrin of the surly grandma dog of the household, Khaki's tail seems to be Dakota's favorite new toy. And every time Khaki wags her tail, Dakota embarks on another hair-raising mission. I guess Dakota is too smart to chase her own tail.<br /></div><br /><div>So this is probably the last post on the blog before Graham and I embark on the San Juan Adventure. So all 25 of you who have check this blog out will get a two week reprieve. I might be able to post, but don't count on it. I'm counting on two weeks of remote latin-american paddling and fishing. So no word back from MARENA, I guess we'll see what happens when we get there. I can't wait to see some folks in San Jose, CR when I get there. I'm most excited for Alejandra's reaction--she might faint. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So there is it. Like a prisoner about to walk the plank, I once again find myself leaving the civilized world for the unknown. What a wonderful, familiar feeling. How refreshing it will be to hold a paddle in my hands again and feel the power of a river surging underneath me. So now, we depart--two friends, two fly-rods, two countries, one canoe, one river, and one hell of an adventure. It's great to be 24 and going for broke.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CP_14Gegsyy4GSWhRQ2UpHhgxEp3ShbwttdvN-Ii9CUvxQFcEMeiT6duwGRtpRcLc7ujb0mQaFn7D6otT9KchHJNhheNyDX-Qu8U6s1e8kXAWig641rXqGzilX79Nn2YppgDLT4DKxbL/s1600-h/IMG_0294.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120570598621457314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CP_14Gegsyy4GSWhRQ2UpHhgxEp3ShbwttdvN-Ii9CUvxQFcEMeiT6duwGRtpRcLc7ujb0mQaFn7D6otT9KchHJNhheNyDX-Qu8U6s1e8kXAWig641rXqGzilX79Nn2YppgDLT4DKxbL/s320/IMG_0294.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> <em>Graham Petty, canoeist and Mongolian adventurer</em></div><div><em> </em></div></div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-20354815061531263992007-10-08T19:24:00.000-07:002007-10-08T19:45:00.673-07:00Sunday Morning Coming DownSo I won't embellish too much on details from this weekend, not for lack of experiential excitement, but more out of a respect for this venue and the need to keep it somewhat PG. The weekend involved night managers of 4 star hotels, canadian squatters, an eclectic group of friends, and everything in between. It was a blast.<br /><br />So I just got an email back from the director of MARENA in the San Carlos region of Nicaragua. MARENA is equivalent of a Ministry of Natural Resources. I had inquired two weeks ago about fishing licenses for Graham and I. He just emailed me back with instructions. The laundry list of hoops makes it seem like I am applying for a passport. I guess they take their fishing seriously-just like me. I just hope all our paperwork is in order when we get there. I'm guessing we will have to contribute one more piece of paperwork, courtesy of Mr. Grant or even Mr. Franklin, depending on how much we want to lubricate the bureaucracy.<br /><br />It has just settled in that I am leaving in a week. I haven't ever really done a trip like this abroad, unless you count Canada, so it is a bit daunting. I just spent the last hour searching for my passport. That's an important piece of trip equipment. My collection of flies tied especially for this trip is growing, ever so slowly, but I think we'll have enough. Man I'm getting excited.CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-91223150035560854092007-09-30T12:04:00.001-07:002008-12-09T01:52:32.327-08:00Rio San Juan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ6bqpycCWsTLELAblXImdttDoYwTQl_yaaTTKs9LHye3bwH-QxxU7YnAsz6WxOeUOnnQw01K0aVwqo9Ck7Bx3l_Hejy9uqg5NUVrVIH_l2JsqeR4RDgw7IG7f_Mal5aSFxqw6mmfZl0xE/s1600-h/zzz-bushmaster-snake-3.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116079424334474114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ6bqpycCWsTLELAblXImdttDoYwTQl_yaaTTKs9LHye3bwH-QxxU7YnAsz6WxOeUOnnQw01K0aVwqo9Ck7Bx3l_Hejy9uqg5NUVrVIH_l2JsqeR4RDgw7IG7f_Mal5aSFxqw6mmfZl0xE/s200/zzz-bushmaster-snake-3.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div>So, my buddy Graham and I are going to Nicaragua. Originally, we had planned on doing a standard surf travel across Costa Rica and possibly Nicaragua. The other day, though, he stopped through and maps came out. So did some whisky. Pretty soon we were talking about doing this trip down San Juan River in Nicaragua. Now we're committed. The plan, as it stands, is to gear up in La Fortuna, Costa Rica. We'll put in on the Rio Frio in Costa Rica, then paddle to the famed Lake Nicaragua. A short paddle across Lake Nicaragua will bring us to the Nicaraguan town of San Carlos. Our passports stamped, and after a stop at the local market, we'll shove off in our canoe for what I hope to be an epic journey.<br /><br />The San Juan flows east for 200 km before reaching the Caribbean. Inside its banks is some of the best tarpon and snook fishing to be had, anywhere, and in freshwater. We'll be fly-fishing for 40 lb snook and perhaps 100lb tarpon (that's a small one!) . I've been tying flies like a fiend. We'll be ready for them. I just hope that the fish decide to run downstream. It's the jungle there, too. I just got the maps and there is next to nothing on the river. A couple of indian villages, some ranches on the Costa Rican side, but not much. Then, about 20 km from the delta, we'll divert to the Rio Colorado which crosses into Costa Rica. Then we'll paddle through Tortuguero National Park or on the Caribbean and get picked up. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just endured a hour-long friekout circus festival with my parents. They are convinced that we are going to die. My father is sending me articles about bull sharks. Yes, they are in the river, as well as Lake Nicaragua, but no one has been eaten in 30 years. My mother is worried about the plethora of brown recluses and tarantulas. She doesn't even want to hear about the caimans and bushmaster snakes (see photo) that my father is currently hyperventilating over. I told him I'd bring a radio and some percaset. But, I am beginning to think a bit about what they have to say. Perhaps I'll make my camp as snake-proof as possible and avoid swimming in the river at night. At least it is 2007 and not 1987 and we don't have to worry about the Sandanistas. At least as far as we know.</div><div></div><div></div><div>So that's the plan. 300 km in 10 days. 2 friends, 1 canoe, 2 fly rods, 2 machetes, and all the adventure we can handle. </div>CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182184694491330837.post-66255268558215591912007-09-30T08:15:00.000-07:002007-09-30T12:02:20.729-07:00On the BandwagonSo I'm on the bandwagon now. I have a blog. I have no idea what I'm going to write. I guess the whole idea behind a blog is that my life or what I have to say about it is interesting enough that other people are going to read it. Perhaps the mundane life that I lead will appeal to some of you. So here it is. Reed's blog.CMSP Dogshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12810853897128172126noreply@blogger.com0