Chronicle of an epic journey! VIDEO 
In a universe far away and long ago, two lifelong friends who knew from the time the two walked around a neighborhood full of chollones BMX bikes, devised a wonderful plan a trip on a motorcycle as they had never imagined. The plan sounded like fun, daring, adventurous ... almost like those year-end purposes we set for ourselves every year but never or almost never fulfilled for this or that.
However, one day these two friends managed to escape the powerful spells and conducted routine unthinkable: 3 full days away from their daily grind to explore acquiring 1000 km for a variety of places of the country!
Their ancestors still tell the story ...
DAY 1: Tuesday, January 5, 2010 Last night we met later, around 11 pm, to discuss the final details of the trip. Both slept little, partly because of the excitement and because we slept late, so it was no surprise dawn with eyes glued to the nape of the pure dream. When I called Francisco, known in the underworld of Jose Maria Zeledon and Curridabat as The Afko, was that he had beaten the covers more than me and we were not going to leave on time.
When The Afko happened to my car I hastened home to get out and do not delay over the plan. From there we went to Paseo Colon to pick on
Wild Riders bike rentals, a Suzuki DR 650 SE, while the Afko was going to do the last lap to let me list your item. We agreed that he was going to drive my Honda Tornado (250cc) and I was going to handle the DR, since he knew my bike and I wanted to kill fever with a larger displacement bike as Suzuki in question.
The issue of bike hire lots were late ... had to change late in the chain until I got to go, so to get in the way, with the speedometer cable had been disconnected because the burst of the last client that rented. Wild Riders leaving between 8 and 8:30 am we go 10-10:30 am The fight is still needed to go home to wait for the Afko and finish packing for the trip.
After what seemed an eternity to say this, do that and pack the other, we entrust ourselves to God and finally at noon we headed for Perez Zeledon, about 130 km + / - of San Jose. As this would be the first trip over Afko, the consensus was not to go forward and doing crazy or insane. Well, it was not launched to stop my best friend and let it cure than riding a bike, so the request was accepted without problem. Here I must clarify that the trip would be the first at this level for Francis, who finished her teaching to ride a bike and then took him to get license A3 as the middle of 2009. This was to be his initiation, his trial by fire as a biker and motorcyclist not common, but long distance!
The first goal of the trip was to reach PZ. The trip went smoothly, moving from 50 to 80 km / h as the road curves and strokes. The Afko intensive received his first lesson in how to maneuver and reverse curves and how safe overtaking following my hand signals and copying what I did.
we first stop to take pictures of the Canyon Church (the Guarco of Carthage) and make a calls and text messages pass report line to give to friends and family. Then we went back to mount and follow. Little was needed to take a coffee.
Chespiritos
Upon reaching the number 2, stopped to take photos, eat something and take a hot chocolate and coffee. We thought it was going to do a cold fear of going through the Cerro de la Muerte, but was not so: the day was clear and sunny. At the end I held the cold out of sheer laziness to stop to put on a shirt over a shirt, sleeveless jacket worn under the ventilated.
And speaking of the jacket and the team that we had, we were both Hit-Air jackets with airbag
and protectors on the elbows, shoulders and back, to which sumábamos knee, modular helmets (which are up front) and reflective vests. No tools left behind, two jars of inflators / Tire sealants emergency Motul brand (after going to talk about these products), a tire not. 18 for the rear wheel of any of the motorcycles and the ability to call INS Assistance if we did need a crane accident. Planning is essential in these long trips.
De Chespiritos we route and arrived around 4 Perez, just to throw us just roll a drunk camouflaged behind in the bushes near the bench where we sat down to rest and watch kids. Soon afterwards the police came to tell who will pull mae, but just continued being silly, until finally it rose from 4 (while the others laughed Tombos 3-4) and threw him in the crate pickup. Many police to lift a drunk
was something proportions as those of our trip, just to log-in the story. If this happens in San Jose would be there if not with such good eyes.
We went then to the famous Queen of the Valley, as required by tradition stop every time I go to Perez. Always difficult in the field grabbing the second floor balcony, but well worth it. This time, out of the breaded chicken fingers and always asked crowns rigor chicken wings also see how it goes. The Afko for his part was not very hungry, or so said several times, but it seemed to vary my food ... one of our recurring themes. A friendship of so many years can not stop them, and inevitably some will come to the surface as I write.
after waiting more than two hours, one for each birrita, and have used to enjoy and take pictures of the flora and fauna,
got ready to leave for Sunday (no handle even half tapis tapis!). It was already 6 and rest when we routed toward the mountain pass about 25 km.
find the way fog, then we use a skill learned a long time ago I can not remember where: one of the directional lighting, which is more visible to vehicles traveling in the opposite lane, and not to turn the high beam ( light bounces off the microparticles are water and fog hampering visibility). Francisco soon understood the move and did likewise. Furthermore, to go even more carefully, we honking just before entering the winding tour to warn of our presence in the narrow road.
After about 1 hour and 15 already went out Sunday to Costanera Sur. And other friends had told me that what was once a sea of \u200b\u200bpebbles of 45 km (Steven, a partner of Moto from scratch, and I had made that trip at Easter 2009) and was paved and very well done. What a surprise then I took the mountain pass leaving a narrow path of pure gray ballast stretching about one kilometer. About halfway we went to get fuel to a pump on the left and buy a drink. On these trips is important could you be hydrated, taking into account that after much mileage as you begin to enter into a trance, in a light slumber, and sometimes forget that whenever you become dehydrated.
Once we overcome the stretch of stones piedrotas and gray pebbles went out to a road as I had imagined: pure asphalt is level, zero holes, any number of cat eyes, horizontal and vertical demarcation ... until bike lane! By then the Afko had gained enough confidence to go speeding between 80 and 120 km / h, I for my part, taking that now had plenty of room to test the DR650 at times I hit the accelerator, leaving one or two cars thrown , and then I stepped to one side and down the speed to reach the Afko me. The crap was that the speedometer of the DR was bad, then I assume that when I walked the bike faster rate was 140-160km / h!! In our fast
route in spite of little surprise that was not left to impress and give us a lot of anger and irresponsibility freshness of both local cyclists and motorcyclists. The first, went without anything reflective or post or on the bike, the second, apart from not wearing vests and helmets often came in threes quietly as if the bikes were to carry 3 people over. The case that gave us more angry was that of a man, woman and child under 5 years, all uploaded on the same bike and all in the same way without a helmet! To me these things always give me too much chicha, but I was comforted to see the reaction of Francis before the show ... at least nothing more foolish of me.
hour and a half later we arrived in Jaco. We had no fixed plan for the night, but once I had stayed with Henrik, a large Norwegian friend in a cabinitas half hidden in the courtyard of Wahoo's restaurant. Although these cabins are no longer in the current edition of the Lonely Planet Guide to Costa Rica, in an earlier self and so I realized the existence of the place, clean and quiet for the night or a few. Night for two people cost us 12 000 colones and we lose the saddlebags of the Tornado and the package tied with a thousand leagues of "my" Suzuki.
To make a long story, not take us long to get the party started. Armed with a bottle Grant's went to order a pair of plastic glasses with ice to Wahoo's and offer a wiskito by hand and by the 250 km route on the first day. The Afko was ecstatic and I did not stay behind. Despite the contentera, we were tired, so we finally decided to go for a beer at a liquor store over there and then to Wahoo's for some Jaeger Bombs and a Coronitas micheladas.
When we got hungry started asking for chicken wings and barbecue party was held at all. After a while until I got the nostalgia and made a long distance call to Finland Hermanillos greet my child, who is there for like 5 months of babysitting. I talked a while with her, I told what he was, I put the Afko a while and then said goodbye. By then, the waitress looked very interesting and voluptuous at least for me.
After the final departure (lol!) back to the cabin, at 25 meters, straw talked a while, especially how amazing it was almost like the lies that we were spending the night in Jaco and we managed as 9 leñazo one hour. In the latter won the fatigue and traguillos and I imagine that snore like pigs until the next day.
DAY 2: Wednesday, January 6, 2010
The Afko rose before me and began to press for me I woke up, but I was so tired from the previous day's early start the process took its time. Zero rubber, was not so bad, but I was tired ... that depletion that has accumulated. After getting ready and pick the redskins, we were talking a while with the kid of the cabins, a good note mae told us that for a future visit to warn him to treat us showing off. With the bikes already rigged the next thing was to see what and where we were going to breakfast.
To save time and spend too much money I suggested we move on to a supermarket to buy some fruit, cookies and yogurt, to start the trip with good light and get hungry to Liberia. Shift after entering the store, pleasantly cool at the point of air conditioning, and being the show with our awesome costumes and reflective vests motorcycle, we sat down to eat at the supermarket entrance, facing the street where we parked the bikes.
Once we finished heading towards Caldera, where we stopped to take a few pictures and take sports drink. Hence American cling to Liberia of a single pull. Jaco as we had left at 12:15 pm and arrived in Liberia at 4. The consensus was to go and eat something quick to
Food Mall, where again we show the guards and other local diners.
A sunrise to Afko gave for taking a picture with circumstantial local jocular, which fit me a big laugh after the eccentric frame memory.
After filling the casing, the Afko took me for a mini tour of the places where he had lived and worked in his days as a medical student in Liberia. It was quite interesting to see my friend rebuilding and stories of those times that we were more and more of our college years, so different from mine it. We
en route to the golden sunset ... Philadelphia Bethlehem, Santa Cruz, Nicoya. In Nicoya spent to buy soft drinks Palí moisturizing and step we take to get tape to attach the reflective vests to the back of our packs and thus become more visible. In the parking lot offered him the DR to Afko to try a weight similar to the Tornado, but with more power ... to make you salivate! Did not take long to realize why I wanted to rent that bike ...
Once we are ready, type 7:30 pm, like a shot en route to the bridge, to an average of 80-100 km / h, taking advantage of low traffic. After about half an hour away and although we went through there very fast, we could not help feeling some curiosity to see the famous
nightclub just before the intersection to the bridge. Zero intentions to behave badly, some curiosity and thirst for a cold, we went back and climbed the mound of ballast up to the entrance of chante.
A Kid greeted us and showed us where to park bikes. Despite the darkness and the faint light emitted by the ultraviolet fluorescent glow stick do not stop to enter the premises, with our backpacks and jackets Force vest with reflective material. On the left there was a whole horde of girls of all colors, shapes and sizes as little light left to imagine, but perhaps I got curious endured it very well.
We ordered a couple of Heineken and frankly we were more interested in reaching a satisfactory agreement on where we were going to spend the night in eye strain to see the girls who were at the bottom, at the bar. The truth is that at 30, at least for us two, no longer the same grace to enter a place of these ... for that was the 20! We were in such
seeing if we stopped the ride Abangares Boards or if we sent our brave to Monteverde, calculating to the last place before 11 pm, until a young lass, quite beautiful and obviously approached us quietly guanaco to see how they were doing and if we wanted company. When we told the story we did a couple of suggestions for accommodations, re-emphasized to give us support and, after realizing that we were not on the same wavelength, the minutes were misled. Luckily
because at least I was pretty distracting and its attributes, but at the same time I was more interested in resolving the issue of travel ... we were so tired to get to Monteverde and not finding accommodation was not a possibility very encouraging! We finally decided to attempt the ascent Monteverde and in the worst case, can not find sleep, get up again Boards to strike somewhere else. We finished the beer, pay, say goodbye to the kids to the entrance and we pull. Indeed we believe that this place after having to count more than anything else ... the epic journey constantly calling us to continue on the road.
This time we press the go more than the previous route. The line was opened to us with their abundant cat eyes and made us think that we were piloting at night and a top speed of fighter planes of World War II. During the trip several times and no shortage of lonely cars on the narrow strip of road that we wanted to take off for them to pass. Nice thing! As the bastards as given if we fall or we malmatamos for giving this old-field in a single lane, I beckoned to pre-empt Afko while I was hindering the passage of impatient car behind.
So we went for a good amount of miles until we had more street to us safely aside and let the aggressive drivers who came to harass us. If something pisses me off is that the cars motorcycles chronic disrespect and stupidities committed to us whenever they can. There are no saints or by car or bike, but we of the two wheels the most expensive pay in an accident!
At the crossroads of Limonal, even though both bikes still had enough gas, we decided better to stop the pump and fill tanks especially by the use of the DR, which runs close to 170km called open book (the Tornado enduring as 30 km.) Once
Boards following the signs we went and we had to ask a couple of times along the route to start climbing to Monteverde. It was already 9 and a half ago and we were still wandering on our steel horses, each time thinking more if we were going to have trouble finding a place to sleep.
began the ascent of the path winding asphalt but I do not really remember my first time in Monteverde about 9 years ago. In my imagination was Punitive ballast stones, but the asphalt, at least so far lasted, would help us to arrive soon.
Indeed, ballast stones and also did not wait too. We continued climbing through the winding paths of a dark until an army of water droplets made us stop to get the layers. It was a good decision because the water, despite being small, He never ceased to fall. We keep moving, whistling in the corners, with light and a directional high as to make us more visible, until the road was gradually making a marshmallow with mud. Aware of the limitations of experience and mine Afko knowledge of the road as we walked around 20-30km/h...adelante I to go exploring and identifying travel.
15 km and up to Monteverde we had and we still have another 15, but the unthinkable happened! An experience that even I, with my current 70 000km of coming and going had fought with such intensity ... let alone the Afko! What does not kill us makes us stronger ...
The change of scenery was ruthless: to come burdened roads and dodging rain drops thousands out into a clearing where the non-covered slopes and surrounding mountains made us a second to another easy prey to the fury of night wind. The intensity of the gusts of at least 80km / h was such that our bikes as toys were dragged to the edge of the road very close to a ditch.
The roar was deafening wind and water droplets hit us so hard in the face of everything we had to get off the helmet visor. In the struggle to not fall over the bike we are inclined everything we can to deliver a low profile, but it was a losing battle ... when I saw the Afko, which was two meters behind me, I was trying to get left leg under the bike to see how he stood up.
When I checked that nothing had happened to my friend yelled at soon as I could to shut the gas tank so the bike would not choke and we are unable to restarting. We act fast, so start the engine after was not difficult, at least not more than lift the bike and hold it while trying desperately to turn around to take shelter on the slopes where we had come, about 50 meters behind.
Afko It mattered little that weighed about 100 kilos and carry a 135kg bike or my 85 kg on the DR650 from about 150kg ... a couple of minutes after Afko helped, it was my turn to test soil . It was almost turned around with the DR when a withering blast made me lose the delicate balance and the bike and I went down.
world took me a lift back to the bike and just to stay above the worst angle to the strength of the hellish winds we did not get a second break. We had like 15 minutes or more to be stuck trying to come back when out of nowhere, our guardian angel appeared in a Colombian passenger riding in rural taxi at 11pm.
of nowhere came a car, a Mitsubishi Montero taxi, on his way to Monteverde. The driver saw us and / or did not realize we were in trouble and earned him a recarajo. Since the taxi was to continue its journey when the passenger told the driver something and beckoned him to return to help. The cab fell backwards and stood at attention between us and the wind that so bad while we had passed and as if by magic wind's fury seemed to disappear. We finished
accommodate and the taxi was slowly in reverse Afko escorting back to the point where the winds whipped the road, then back again for me and went slowly turn a blind on the bike and me to where I was the Afko . Once safely under cover and we could not get rid at least thanks to the good partner that instead of laughing at our misfortune or have gone straight gave us a hand (or a taxi!) To get us out of this quagmire. We said goodbye and everyone went his own way: the rise and we taxi back to Las Juntas. We got super fast
the 15km and located inn. We went to see if they had rooms and were told that themselves and to make it even better, in the same place had a bar hut next to a lake. After setting up the bikes outside the booth and pull the redskins in bed we went to the bar to finish to get off the shock and printing with the beers of rigor. It was staff that we had taken a shock to the Vast! We ask for chicken wings to kill hunger accumulated since we ate in Liberia 7 hours ago and we commented incredulously what we had experienced in the infernal Ventolero. There were other people, a group of friends, taking also beer and telling stories while the kids from the Argentina bar and his wife attended and prepared food.
At the end of the bar asked glasses with ice and headed for the departure to the cabin, where we had a bottle of Grant's. Straw continued talking while watching TV and not todavíaaaaa epic experience we believed we were living ... Finally we fell asleep at the time of Burro into the night.
DAY 3: Monday January 7, 2010 When we woke the next day, we started to get ready to follow the path.
wash coats, boots and let them dry for a while under the hot sun for almost noon,
Carajillo while a lot of in and out of the pool that we realized also had in place.
We were still trying to decide where we would continue the route, having already ruled out up to Monteverde, where the kid came to the booths a little chat. We told the Ventolero that almost takes us last night and told us it was nothing unusual, but that day usually had trouble climbing to Monteverde. After a while, from what he had said the company and spoken to Afko I poured, I was able to sell the idea not to go and try again defeated, that the worst since we came back to again and Boards Jalabe and elsewhere.
With this slogan, we ask the kid we took some pictures, we said goodbye and left. Day was quite another thing: go up faster, take pictures and, on reaching the controversial kilometer 15, I got off the bike and walked the course the night before to measure winds.
As there were no strong currents back to the bike and Afko still somewhat dubious, did likewise. From there to Santa Elena / Monteverde not take us long to arrive. After several rounds of recognition, take pictures in front of the Frog Pond and see which many food choices we make, we end up calling home lunch next to the church there in the middle.
The Tornado Afko I, Rodrigo, DR650
After lunch and take a few cafes not to go with the tide alkaline "full" we leave the center at the crossing that is a few miles down and leads to Tilarán, our next stop. Little did we know that the journey of 37 km to Tilarán also bring us one or two more things to point to the list of adventures and anecdotes ...
started to roll over dirt roads, average speed of 25-30 km / h. The idea was to go quietly, enjoying the scenery and not let the Afko launched (although who had traveled a little over burden upon leaving Sunday to go to the new Costanera, here the route would be longer and more irregular). Everything was going well until the DR started coughing and panting halfway ... gas! In the days before the ride was already noticing that the bike had been asked to open reserves to reach the 170 km route, about 20km less than the Tornado. It would be in the habit of always walking my Tornado still came with the idea that I would last more gasoline in the DR ... Anyway no problem, I still could "order" a bit of gas to Tornado Tilarán to reach and teach the way Afko old dog another trick. Close the fuel valve to the Tornado, snapped out the little hose and a bottle of Powerade we had on hand for these contingencies, we started to open the fuel valve and slowly and carefully blasting on the 600ml plastic bottle. Having made quick calculations on the distance covered by the Tornado since the last gas-filled performance that would give us the fuel remaining after the cow for my DR, enlisted the Tornado and continue the journey. Everything would have been nice, but ... there's always a but!
We walked along the dusty and uneven roads, closer every time until Tilarán. We maintained the steady pace, until later, missing several miles of steep descent, the Afko asked me to stop a tap to check your rear wheel. While he was over to stop the bike ahead of the fall, I gave a slow U-turn and required to leave the DR against the decline and 1st. and then get out to check the Tornado ... So, to pay tribute to one of the fastest descent rate graceless common yet, my foot slipped I went left and falling in slow motion with every bike, like duck shooting. ****! Salting, as it was so hot, I had changed pants with knee pads and a current jeans falling and I hit scraped left knee. For in the end nothing happened, nor was I hit the knee on a piedrota unprotected or that I broke or anything, but it is to see you that you never know. So I went with the usual chicken "to me is not going to happen." In my defense I will say that the heat was too much, not going more than 30 per hour and, like the pants that I was not as uncomfortable as it is to pull on luggage, and I had no room for kneepads take apart (she preferred to take them Afko to be the least experienced, ironic, no?). More was wounded pride, swearing and colerón the coup itself. Finally, I lifted the bike, I shook the dust, we checked the rim to the Tornado, which had nothing, and continue down the hill ... until my bike started making ugly again ... there was no gas!
then I took up the slope where possible and then I started pushing with one leg. By this time the Afko had realized the situation and stopped to pure Tilarán entry in the Just outside, the people. After listening to Afko grumble about my minor miscalculation and tell her to give me Tornado gas up the center while he took care of the DR and the redskins, I started moving again. Not only there I realized that the crank was walking Tornado twisted by the fall the previous night but half a mile from where I left the Birdbrain of Afko ... I turned to run out of gas! Apparently, the gas miscalculation was double and that was where I put things uphill ... LITERALLY!
Lost in disbelief and mother for the low, the only thing that comforted me was that the giant cuestota I was going to play up pushing the bike was not going to be with the DR650, a few kilos heavier than the Tornado, but just was comforted by halves. For observers, all fools to offer help to the poor mae going up the hill and sweating as degenerate, it must have been fun. After at least 20 minutes of strenuous climb, I had already removed all the armor and had tied motorcycling with links to the back of the bike. The hull had to take him for lack of space as where to put it, so I felt like you were sucking foam most of the sweat running down my head and eyes and enchilada me.
And it was until the end of the devilish Punitive costs (if ever come from where we came Tilarán will understand what I mean) that a kind soul, a girl who was passing in his coffee cart, stopped to wonder why I happened. I told him then that he had the misfortune of running out of gas to the pure bottom of the hill and the other company was still further in the same situation, I was the last hope of humanity and our epic journey to get gas again and that if he knew where the bomb was left near you. The girl, sorry it was not my type then offered to go to get gas while I replenished the huge effort. As chance had a motorcycle garage 25 meters of the climb, I went to ask a container and funnel and gave him 2000 colones to the good Samaritan. After a while he returned the chick with the container filled with petrol and after repeatedly thanking Sometimes your great help (the bomb was still about 300 meters and not on demand), refueling the bike returned to the poles workshop and pulled to find the service station to finish filling the tank.
After filling the tank with 4 reds and rid the way to go to find the Afko and back to change bikes. Again played the famous performing milking maneuver and transfer of gasoline, until we return to the DR to roar as pints of gas, enough to reach the pump again and make sure we were both in tank fuel to the muzzle. Since we had come upon the sunset at the time and it was becoming more evident that we would not arrive early at San Carlos for dinner with my Aunt Olga, who since morning had warned that we greeting happen.
Darkness, fog and rain droplets were quick to welcome us as we began the winding road around Lake Arenal. At least now the Afko was more alert with the previous fog along the journey and you copied me when I lit a directional to become more visible and when he played the whistle before the curves came another vehicle itself. It took about two hours to make the road to La Fortuna, where it was not worth stopping even for the low visibility that have surrounded us and we would continue to delay the journey.
Several miles later the fog disappeared, but not rain. Every time we getting closer to Ciudad Quesada (San Carlos), but I had no time to walk through those dollars late at night, I missed a stretch of the road and we lost. What had been a good hour or hour trip and the rest was spread over two hours. We asked several times to people who are on the way and either did not know well or do not lead us where we learned to understand, but still wander a little more until ... eureka!, Signs began to appear that we walked to finally come to City Quesada. There
not finished the adventure of getting to the house of my aunt, since from the center of Ciudad Quesada I was not sure of the route. Took a couple of calls and a bit laps to go about the target, until at last we get to where my Aunt about 9 and a half ago. And very relieved to tell, we remove the annoying and we soaked layers and hanging on the bikes. Auntie, it's a great cook, and we heated the delicious pizza we had from the evening. Not bad for a couple of starving travelers!
After dinner we said goodbye to my Aunt Olga and started to drive us back over the protective equipment and all the redskins luggage, ready to make the trip down from San Carlos to Chepe ... the last 100 km of our epic journey! A 11 pm we got on the road.
(To be continued ..) @
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