G vs. the Volcano
After conquering the waterfall, I was on a natural high for days. I felt I could do anything - I was the indian version of chuck norris. (chuck norris can divide by zero, chuck norris' keyboard does not have a control key on it because he is always in control..ahha)
The next morning, the Swedes and I got some breakfast and surprisingly were still giving me props. I climbed a freaking waterfall - I did not cure cancer, but they were still proud. We took a chicken bus back to this beach hotel where I had all my stuff. I quickly grabbed a tona - which is the best beer ever, and found myself a hammock and passed out for the next couple of hours.
That afternoon, I decided to go for a horseback ride on the beach. I figure if I ever want to meet an Indian girl i should learn how to ride - I mean all the heroes in Indian films always save the girl on horse.. As I was leaving, I ran into a couple I met on the ferry a couple days earlier - Danny and Jodie. Crazy shit is that they both were in the Peace Corps in Khaziktan, doing eco-tourism. I can't make this shit up!
Anyhow, we all decided to take the horses on a 3 hour tour to see some petrogrifs - which are ancient carvings on the island - think hieroglyphics. First off, riding a horse is WAY harder than it seems and WAY more painful. At first, I tried to make it gallop and realized that my balls and my ass were getting pounded. I don't know how cowboys did it. Maybe that is why they were all so bitter, their ass hurt all the time from riding. Further my legs were still sore from the waterfall climb which only compounded the problem. By the end of the ride, I was begging my horse to go slow. Of course, it thought it would be great to gallop some more...fuck me.
That Wednesday night, I met some other friends from the US. She had been traveling from Cuba, and now was touring Granada. Over dinner, they all tried to convince me to climb Mount Maderas with them the next morning (1500 meteres tall - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maderas). It takes about 4 hours to get up the mtn and 4 hours to come down.
I put my foot down and said there was no fucking way i was climbing again. One of the dudes in this group is 6'2 and 300 pounds. He said he was going to do it, which made me look like more of a pussy. That night I ran into my gay Canadian buddies who just climbed the mountain. They have climbed a lot of mountains throughout the US and are really in good shape. And they had seen me climb a little bit yesterday so I asked them for their opinion. They both looked each other and then looked at me with grave concern and said "It was really hard" and suggested that I sit on the beach or something. I did some research and it seemed like they were not bullshitting - all i heard were horror stories from the people who had climbed it.
I spent all night tossing and turning. I dreamt that I had made it, and also dreamt that I had to relive my waterfall experience. In the morning, I said fuck it, and joined my friends for the hike. I put on my flipflops, tossed some shoes in my pack and we were on my way.
Within ten minutes, my guide asked if i had shoes. I assured him I did, but preferred flip flops- he gave the look that seemed to say "Its your life". The first hour was painful. I was thankful for having this fat friend in our group as I was no longer the weakest link. He looked like I felt the day of the waterfall. After an hour it was clear we would need to separate. The fat dude and his fat brother with one guide (who prolly would just hike for another hour) and the two other fast hikers with the other guide (who would do the entire climb).
While every single muscle in my body was telling me to take the easy way out and go with the slower group, for some reason out of my mouth came the words "Ill go with the group who is climbing to the top". Not only did I surprise myself, but i think surprised my friends as well as the guides. As a sidenote, when the guides saw my fat friends they instantly knew that they would not make it to the top - I was more of a wildcard.
Anyhow, as usual I was the weakest link in the faster group and was way behind. Then the guide had an interesting tactic and made me lead the group and forge the way. I did not know if it was a mind game or whatever, but it actually worked. Walking on a path and leading others is way better than following someone else. It is always demoralizing to see how far behind i was - this way i was always in front!
The hike up was just as I expected for the first two hours. The inclines were way worse than the waterfall but the good thing was we were shaded by the trees from the sun. The guide spoke very little English but made fun of me the whole way.
"Muy gordo.." and I would reply "Si.."
He then said " Mucho comida"
"Si..."
"Mucho bebar"
"Si"
"Mucho fumar"
"Si.."
The best part was when I was really out of breath, my hands would be on my knees in the pike position. He would then mock me and pretend he was out of breath as well. This dude was 52 and did not break a sweat the entire climb. I could not believe how good of shape he was in.
I told my friends I would commit to them that I would make it to the first vista point which was halfway up the mountain. That way I figured, I would not look like a total pussy and still get to see some amazing views. Of course, everytime I asked about the vista, he seemed to say it was just ten minutes away. I felt I was being a little annoying to the group and was the equivalent to the douchebag on a car ride who always asks "Are we there yet". After a good 45 minutes of silence, I asked again. The guide said then said that the last place we rested for 2 minutes was the vista point - Fuck me. I look at him in disbelief. Now I was in a total quandry - I was not totally dying like the waterfall, but had already exceeded my goals. Should I press my luck?
I figured nothing could be worse than the waterfall, and we were still under the tree canopy so I continued on.
The next hour got better as we encountered more of a incline and now were just climbing up using tree roots. I felt more comfortable doing this as it requires more muscle than endurance. (I am not sure if I am doing a good job describing it). The trail now essentially was a 75 degree angle and thus you were using roots to "climb". It felt like climbing a jungle gym when you are in pre school. The only issue was that as increased in altitutde, the dirt turned to mud. I switched to "shoes" - however these are the soccer shoes that everyone has been rocking. They have zero traction and essentially just look good. When my guide saw this, he essentially said there was a 100% chance I was going to have a faceplant on the way down.
Within a few minutes, I began to see why. We were climbing up some incredible steep portions and the ground was turning into a slick clay. Going up was going to be alot easier than going down.
I eventually reached the top and it was a bit anti-climatic. I was really surprised that I had made it but did not have the same feeling of nirvana as I felt during the waterfall. my friends said that b/c the second hike is always easier than the first. I guess what they say is true - the harder the struggle the sweeter the victory. Dont get me wrong, the views from top were ridiculous. The best part of this is that on top of the volcano is a lake. Its an additional hour hike down from the rim to the lake which we did not do. Anyhow, it looks very much like a lost world up there.
The hike down was fucking scary. I felt i had banana peels on my feet. I literally slid on my ass for most of it, gripping roots to prevent me going out of control. I must have said 100 times, "I am no longer having fun". Honestly, it was shitty. My shoes were caked in mud, and traction was impossible to get. I think the guide stayed behind me as he wanted to make sure if I ate it, he did not get taken out as well.
4 hours after peaking the mountain, we made it down. At this point, every muscle in my body ached and we had run out of water for the last hour. My soles were like bricks and my ankle was ready to give out. When I saw the hostel, I was so relieved. I got some juice and then took a walk to the dock and jumped in the lake. It was awesome. Several cannonballs later we started drinking. The scene was out of a movie. A long dock with a ladder to the water. A sailboat next to the dock. The most beautiful sunset. I prolly killed the scene for alot of people when they say my flabby body and my shorts that were so caked in dirt, it looks like I shat myself. Fuck it!
The cool part of this experience was to learn that most battles really are mind over body. Also i really saw how much smoking fucks up your cardio. Though the next two days i still had the occasional cigarette, I am going to try to give it up when I get back to the States.I just met this American dude who does 3 packs a day. I was like thats fucking gross! I then realized for a non-smoker, my 4 cigs a day (when I am drinking) would warrant the same reaction.
The other thing I realized is that a.) people are super friendly - I was surprised how supportive random strangers were. They were helpful and pushed me along. More than the hike itself, I will always remember the people that got me to the top and back down. I know it sounds like a freaking oscar speech, but i really do mean it. Also, the power of facebook is truly evident when you travel. Everyone i have met so far, I have added to my FB. I hope they will not think less of me when they realize 90% of my friends are Indian.
Friday
For some reason, I got talked to doing the waterfall again. I know i am a pushover. But at least this time, we had a car which meant we would only have to climb for 1km. The whole ride to the waterfall, i thought of my experience on Tuesday. I felt like a ww2 veteran visiting normandy - i got flashbacks of the pain and agony. I felt i knew every rock that provided me support and saw the spots where i puked. I felt proud that I did not "cheat" and did the hike in the most miserable of circumstances; however, i was happy that I did not have to repeat it.
The next couple of days we just decompressed. After the hike, we went to Chaco Verde which is a reserve on the different part of the island. There we sat in the lake for hours, watching the birds and the wildnerness around us. It was black sand, the water was just the right temperature, sit it was perfect. At night, we took over the bar and some of the people I met on the first couple days on Omatepe joined us. We sat drank, smoked for what it seemed like hours. We had a IPOD with speakers and each person had to pick a song.
I realize I am completely gay when it comes to music. I listen to mostly mainstream shit and some stuff my friends got me on. I dont mind listening to the same band from the eighties. My ipod has not been updated for 2 years. So when it came to my turn I was totally hit with performance anxiety. I wanted to appear cool to my friends, so I decided playing DMB might be kinda ghey. Everyone seemed to play shit I have never heard of - Pink Floyd, Beatles, etc. I thought about playing PAC but the crowd seemed very alternative. I decided with Long December from Counting Crows. I got no props from anyone though, but at least I did not get clowned. The next turn, I was a little more faded and thus chose Crossroads by Bone Thugs, and of course got clowned.
The highlight of that night was our chill session was interrupted by some drunk white dude from the military. He seemed like from the midwest and had just come back from Afganistan. The funny part was that we was hammered he kept repeating one of three things. 1) We were a cool bunch 2) His buddy was an ultimate cage fighter and 3) he was going to walk 10 clicks aka km tomorrow. It was funny as shit, because we had the same conversation with him for 30 minutes and he never got the hint that we were fucking with him. Though I have been that guy before, I still felt no sympathy for him. I stayed away from fucking with him though. He looked like he could kick my ass in two seconds, and well i aint a lover but i know for a fact i am not a fighter.
Got some stories from the last couple of days in San Juan del Sur, which I will save for the next post. Right now, I got one more day and then I fly out tomorrow, spend a night in Miami and then back to the real world Wednesday. The funny thing is I actually miss SF. I have gotten a sense of pride saying I am from it, but I always try to make it clear I am not gay. It is eye opening though to realize every backpacked I have met said they would love to end up there.
SF for life????? i dont know man.... for me, to live and die in LA!
The next morning, the Swedes and I got some breakfast and surprisingly were still giving me props. I climbed a freaking waterfall - I did not cure cancer, but they were still proud. We took a chicken bus back to this beach hotel where I had all my stuff. I quickly grabbed a tona - which is the best beer ever, and found myself a hammock and passed out for the next couple of hours.
That afternoon, I decided to go for a horseback ride on the beach. I figure if I ever want to meet an Indian girl i should learn how to ride - I mean all the heroes in Indian films always save the girl on horse.. As I was leaving, I ran into a couple I met on the ferry a couple days earlier - Danny and Jodie. Crazy shit is that they both were in the Peace Corps in Khaziktan, doing eco-tourism. I can't make this shit up!
Anyhow, we all decided to take the horses on a 3 hour tour to see some petrogrifs - which are ancient carvings on the island - think hieroglyphics. First off, riding a horse is WAY harder than it seems and WAY more painful. At first, I tried to make it gallop and realized that my balls and my ass were getting pounded. I don't know how cowboys did it. Maybe that is why they were all so bitter, their ass hurt all the time from riding. Further my legs were still sore from the waterfall climb which only compounded the problem. By the end of the ride, I was begging my horse to go slow. Of course, it thought it would be great to gallop some more...fuck me.
That Wednesday night, I met some other friends from the US. She had been traveling from Cuba, and now was touring Granada. Over dinner, they all tried to convince me to climb Mount Maderas with them the next morning (1500 meteres tall - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maderas). It takes about 4 hours to get up the mtn and 4 hours to come down.
I put my foot down and said there was no fucking way i was climbing again. One of the dudes in this group is 6'2 and 300 pounds. He said he was going to do it, which made me look like more of a pussy. That night I ran into my gay Canadian buddies who just climbed the mountain. They have climbed a lot of mountains throughout the US and are really in good shape. And they had seen me climb a little bit yesterday so I asked them for their opinion. They both looked each other and then looked at me with grave concern and said "It was really hard" and suggested that I sit on the beach or something. I did some research and it seemed like they were not bullshitting - all i heard were horror stories from the people who had climbed it.
I spent all night tossing and turning. I dreamt that I had made it, and also dreamt that I had to relive my waterfall experience. In the morning, I said fuck it, and joined my friends for the hike. I put on my flipflops, tossed some shoes in my pack and we were on my way.
Within ten minutes, my guide asked if i had shoes. I assured him I did, but preferred flip flops- he gave the look that seemed to say "Its your life". The first hour was painful. I was thankful for having this fat friend in our group as I was no longer the weakest link. He looked like I felt the day of the waterfall. After an hour it was clear we would need to separate. The fat dude and his fat brother with one guide (who prolly would just hike for another hour) and the two other fast hikers with the other guide (who would do the entire climb).
While every single muscle in my body was telling me to take the easy way out and go with the slower group, for some reason out of my mouth came the words "Ill go with the group who is climbing to the top". Not only did I surprise myself, but i think surprised my friends as well as the guides. As a sidenote, when the guides saw my fat friends they instantly knew that they would not make it to the top - I was more of a wildcard.
Anyhow, as usual I was the weakest link in the faster group and was way behind. Then the guide had an interesting tactic and made me lead the group and forge the way. I did not know if it was a mind game or whatever, but it actually worked. Walking on a path and leading others is way better than following someone else. It is always demoralizing to see how far behind i was - this way i was always in front!
The hike up was just as I expected for the first two hours. The inclines were way worse than the waterfall but the good thing was we were shaded by the trees from the sun. The guide spoke very little English but made fun of me the whole way.
"Muy gordo.." and I would reply "Si.."
He then said " Mucho comida"
"Si..."
"Mucho bebar"
"Si"
"Mucho fumar"
"Si.."
The best part was when I was really out of breath, my hands would be on my knees in the pike position. He would then mock me and pretend he was out of breath as well. This dude was 52 and did not break a sweat the entire climb. I could not believe how good of shape he was in.
I told my friends I would commit to them that I would make it to the first vista point which was halfway up the mountain. That way I figured, I would not look like a total pussy and still get to see some amazing views. Of course, everytime I asked about the vista, he seemed to say it was just ten minutes away. I felt I was being a little annoying to the group and was the equivalent to the douchebag on a car ride who always asks "Are we there yet". After a good 45 minutes of silence, I asked again. The guide said then said that the last place we rested for 2 minutes was the vista point - Fuck me. I look at him in disbelief. Now I was in a total quandry - I was not totally dying like the waterfall, but had already exceeded my goals. Should I press my luck?
I figured nothing could be worse than the waterfall, and we were still under the tree canopy so I continued on.
The next hour got better as we encountered more of a incline and now were just climbing up using tree roots. I felt more comfortable doing this as it requires more muscle than endurance. (I am not sure if I am doing a good job describing it). The trail now essentially was a 75 degree angle and thus you were using roots to "climb". It felt like climbing a jungle gym when you are in pre school. The only issue was that as increased in altitutde, the dirt turned to mud. I switched to "shoes" - however these are the soccer shoes that everyone has been rocking. They have zero traction and essentially just look good. When my guide saw this, he essentially said there was a 100% chance I was going to have a faceplant on the way down.
Within a few minutes, I began to see why. We were climbing up some incredible steep portions and the ground was turning into a slick clay. Going up was going to be alot easier than going down.
I eventually reached the top and it was a bit anti-climatic. I was really surprised that I had made it but did not have the same feeling of nirvana as I felt during the waterfall. my friends said that b/c the second hike is always easier than the first. I guess what they say is true - the harder the struggle the sweeter the victory. Dont get me wrong, the views from top were ridiculous. The best part of this is that on top of the volcano is a lake. Its an additional hour hike down from the rim to the lake which we did not do. Anyhow, it looks very much like a lost world up there.
The hike down was fucking scary. I felt i had banana peels on my feet. I literally slid on my ass for most of it, gripping roots to prevent me going out of control. I must have said 100 times, "I am no longer having fun". Honestly, it was shitty. My shoes were caked in mud, and traction was impossible to get. I think the guide stayed behind me as he wanted to make sure if I ate it, he did not get taken out as well.
4 hours after peaking the mountain, we made it down. At this point, every muscle in my body ached and we had run out of water for the last hour. My soles were like bricks and my ankle was ready to give out. When I saw the hostel, I was so relieved. I got some juice and then took a walk to the dock and jumped in the lake. It was awesome. Several cannonballs later we started drinking. The scene was out of a movie. A long dock with a ladder to the water. A sailboat next to the dock. The most beautiful sunset. I prolly killed the scene for alot of people when they say my flabby body and my shorts that were so caked in dirt, it looks like I shat myself. Fuck it!
The cool part of this experience was to learn that most battles really are mind over body. Also i really saw how much smoking fucks up your cardio. Though the next two days i still had the occasional cigarette, I am going to try to give it up when I get back to the States.I just met this American dude who does 3 packs a day. I was like thats fucking gross! I then realized for a non-smoker, my 4 cigs a day (when I am drinking) would warrant the same reaction.
The other thing I realized is that a.) people are super friendly - I was surprised how supportive random strangers were. They were helpful and pushed me along. More than the hike itself, I will always remember the people that got me to the top and back down. I know it sounds like a freaking oscar speech, but i really do mean it. Also, the power of facebook is truly evident when you travel. Everyone i have met so far, I have added to my FB. I hope they will not think less of me when they realize 90% of my friends are Indian.
Friday
For some reason, I got talked to doing the waterfall again. I know i am a pushover. But at least this time, we had a car which meant we would only have to climb for 1km. The whole ride to the waterfall, i thought of my experience on Tuesday. I felt like a ww2 veteran visiting normandy - i got flashbacks of the pain and agony. I felt i knew every rock that provided me support and saw the spots where i puked. I felt proud that I did not "cheat" and did the hike in the most miserable of circumstances; however, i was happy that I did not have to repeat it.
The next couple of days we just decompressed. After the hike, we went to Chaco Verde which is a reserve on the different part of the island. There we sat in the lake for hours, watching the birds and the wildnerness around us. It was black sand, the water was just the right temperature, sit it was perfect. At night, we took over the bar and some of the people I met on the first couple days on Omatepe joined us. We sat drank, smoked for what it seemed like hours. We had a IPOD with speakers and each person had to pick a song.
I realize I am completely gay when it comes to music. I listen to mostly mainstream shit and some stuff my friends got me on. I dont mind listening to the same band from the eighties. My ipod has not been updated for 2 years. So when it came to my turn I was totally hit with performance anxiety. I wanted to appear cool to my friends, so I decided playing DMB might be kinda ghey. Everyone seemed to play shit I have never heard of - Pink Floyd, Beatles, etc. I thought about playing PAC but the crowd seemed very alternative. I decided with Long December from Counting Crows. I got no props from anyone though, but at least I did not get clowned. The next turn, I was a little more faded and thus chose Crossroads by Bone Thugs, and of course got clowned.
The highlight of that night was our chill session was interrupted by some drunk white dude from the military. He seemed like from the midwest and had just come back from Afganistan. The funny part was that we was hammered he kept repeating one of three things. 1) We were a cool bunch 2) His buddy was an ultimate cage fighter and 3) he was going to walk 10 clicks aka km tomorrow. It was funny as shit, because we had the same conversation with him for 30 minutes and he never got the hint that we were fucking with him. Though I have been that guy before, I still felt no sympathy for him. I stayed away from fucking with him though. He looked like he could kick my ass in two seconds, and well i aint a lover but i know for a fact i am not a fighter.
Got some stories from the last couple of days in San Juan del Sur, which I will save for the next post. Right now, I got one more day and then I fly out tomorrow, spend a night in Miami and then back to the real world Wednesday. The funny thing is I actually miss SF. I have gotten a sense of pride saying I am from it, but I always try to make it clear I am not gay. It is eye opening though to realize every backpacked I have met said they would love to end up there.
SF for life????? i dont know man.... for me, to live and die in LA!
posted by G at
7:04 PM
2 Comments:
your hike down sounds like my hike down kili...only our asshole guide didn't seem to care that i was falling constantly and cut myself up pretty bad
people can be real a-holes about music, esp. at the beach when you're supposed to be taking things easy. i just came from a trip to the beach where were passing around ipods and some dude insisted on criticizing every song that people played, and when it finally came to him, he naturally picked some band from the 70s that no one had ever heard of.
still, good call on not playing DMB.
and wow, i forgot yat had climbed kilimanjaro, since he hadn't mentioned it in about 20 minutes.
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