New Pix from Costa Rica

Costa Rica Adventures

Greetings and thanx for checking out my long-neglected blog!



I just had the opportunity to visit Costa Rica, where I paddled a river with a story very similar to the Rupert. A marvelous ribbon of jade named Rio Pacuare drains the steep flanks of volcanoes, then falls over boulder choaked canyons with walls of dense tropical rainforest which gives way to banana plantations and crocodile-filled mangroves before finally exhaling a full load of mountain water into the emerald waves of the Carribbean Sea. The Pacuare hosts several remote Indegenous Communities, relentless rapids, astounding amounts of wildlife, and the most stunning scenery imaginable. Unfortunately, the Pacuare has been threatened by a hydro-electric project which could flood one of the most pristine sections, drown primary rainforests, kill an insanely perfect stretch of world-class rapids, and end the possibility for native Cabecan Indian families to continue living their traditional ways. Sound familiar? A nearly parallel story to our own beloved Rupert River, with one major plot difference-- the Pacuare may still have a chance. A reputation as the best river in the world to go rafting on has lured hordes of tourists in, bringing income to the region and providing a viable reason to leave the river alone.
Spent New Year's in Dominical hanging loose with the Watermans. Thanks very mucho you guys! Then said goodbye to Al and struck out on my own in order to explore the river and search for those who had helped to save it. From San Jose, I bought a bus ticket for 1,000 Colones (2 US Dollars) to Turrialba, a coffee town in the shadow of smoking volcanoes, also famous for amazing whitewater delights. Settling into my seat as the big diesel engine choked to life, I took note that the senorita next to me was frantically crossing herself and muttering Hail Mary. "?Es Neccesario?" I asked.
"Si," she responded, with what I hoped was a disproportionate amount of brevity. All too soon, the symptom of her faith became contagious. We zoomed around the tenth blind hairpin turn in a row on two wheels, a mack truck blasting past on the left and a fiersome cliffside on the right, which half the road had already caved into. I crossed myslef and said my Hail Marys for the first time since I could remember. My neighbor approved, her face turning green with carsickness.
Arriving safe and sound in Turrialba four hours later, I ponied up another 3,000 Colones (6 US Dollars) to check into the Hotel Turrialba for the night. A word of advice: never check into a hotel based on it's positive review in a five year old copy of Lonely Planet. In five years, since that rag gave this place a glowing review, the walls have turned to mold, several colonies of ants have taken up residence, and no less than thirty people have pissed on the mattress I was assigned. I would need to get drunk in order to sleep here, so I strolled down to look for some boaters to befriend, knowing that boaters and beer are symbiotic. As I left Hotel Turrialba, I noticed a 24 hour funeral parlor, complete with a casket lined with pink feather boas. Why would Costa Rica's whitewater Mecca need an all night mortuary? Disconcerting.
In search of some friends to get a beer and ultimately paddle the river with, I fortuitously stumbled into Rainforest World Outfitters. Several hours and Imperials later, I had me some friends, a boat and gear to borrow, and a job safety boating for the most famous stretch of whitewater in Central America, leaving at 7:30 the next day. After bravely drowning enough Tequila, I passed out in the piss-stench craphole of a room.
The next morning our trip turned into an overnight as clients decided to have their honeymoon and sleep on the river, so I scored a free ride down, with gourmet meals and all. The Lower section of the Pacuare is probably the most beatiful peice of river I will ever run. Amazing. After every big drop, an 80 foot waterfall plunges down on your head, and then another class four sucks you in. We scrambled up side creeks to jump off waterfalls and explore Cebecan communities, saw monkeys, sloths, boas, parrots, iguanas, scorpions, and canyon walls covered with hanging virgin stands of rainforest, clogged with butterflies, brightly colored birds, and zillions of insects. From my new best friends, the spanish speaking guides, I learned that one Denielle Perry was doing her Masters thesis on the Pacuare, and was on a quest to run the entire Pacuare in the space of seven days, documenting the remote native villages along her way. What she is doing is similar to our mission on the Rupert in uncanny ways.
When we returned to Turrialba, Denielle was getting prepped to start her quest with the Headwaters section the next day. I was invited! We packed nine people into a tiny Land Cruiser, dragging rafts and boats along behind, and headed into the mountains for a few hours, then we transfered the gear onto horses, and crossed a mountain pass into the rarely run Headwaters section of the Pacuare. Finally it was time to paddle. I boofed, bounced and bobbed through amazing class IV drop pools all afternoon, pausing only to mark way points on Denielle's GPS whenever we found huts that the natives were living in or using. The next day we charged the creatively named Upper Upper and Upper sections, which consisted of huge boulders crammed into tight canyons, creating challenging class V+ drops. After that we hit the Top section, where yet more burly rapids tested our mettle. Then we switched into Canoing mode in order to finish off the last section of the Pacuare, where it meanders peacefully through Del Monte banana plaintations on it's way to the mangrove forests at it's mouth in the Carribbean Sea. So I saw the Carribbean for the first time from the stern of a Canoe, after 8 straight days on the river! The most memorable moments of this last section came after dark when we were in the canal from the Pacuare to the Reventezon River, and had to navigate through croc infested waters for a few hours. I think we saw at least 40 crocs all around us, even hit a couple with my paddle. Could see hundreds of eyes in the flashlight beam. Kinda creepy. We ended up in Parismina, one of the most remote towns in Costa Rica. Viva el Pacuare!!!
I relaxed with good reggae vibes and awesome waves for a few days in Puerto Viejo before returning to the States to paste solar panels akimbo on the urban landscape of the Front Range of Colorado.
Denielle and Nate, you guys rock! Please send me some pix to post here. As far as the Rupert film goes, I'm feeling fired up to finish it and plan to work on it a lot now that I'm refreshed. Here's another youtube post of random clips to curb your appetite until the full feature is finished. Super Tuanis, Mae! Desfrute, and please scroll down to learn more about our project from older blogs if you're one of the many awesome folks I met abroad, perhaps checking this blog for the first time.
In the spirit of wild rivers, Steve.