"Adventure is not outside man; it is within" - George Eliot
"A day of firsts" started out with blurry eyed enthusiasm as we rushed from the house yawning, clock laughing 6am and were nearly on time making it our first. We were all anxious for Finca day, having been invited by a local farmer from church to view his three farms. Ones to always embrace a chance to view the inside plow, we lunged at invitation and were on the road heading north when traffic struck. A herd of cattle were crossing in desire of greener pastures and we slowed to allow them to pass. Little did I know how many cattle I would see that day, or how often I'd photograph them.
Pulling off the main roads well outside the city of Liberia we began the hard climb upward on rocky dirt roads admiring the deepening vegetation that had suddenly taken on a miraculous green. No longer was the dry season evident, replaced by steep volcanoes wrapped in green, mountains draped in moss colored grasses. Burrowing deeper into the mountains we continued to climb hills and drift across bridges (six total) leaving behind modern Costa Rica, replaced with the more rural homes and sights. Children riding bareback on horses waving as we pass, a lone rider tying up this mount outside the small market smiles as we go by. This is the Costa Rica I imagined and it has been here all along, tucked far away from highways and asphalt.
Our first stop is the farthest farm, a hidden gem of natural hot springs luring us off the dirt road onto a path that looked like an animal trail. Slowly creeping our way along the fields, cows stop chewing and watch us come, their big ears taking note of our approach. As we pass they fall in behind us, our pace slower then their lumbering. We've suddenly taken on the role of leader and they seemed surprised when we stop and pour out from inside. In their curiosity they sniff our cars, murmuring amongst themselves at the new cows shiny coat and strange horns. How does it travel with such round legs and where is it's tail? Only when our guide, the farmer waves them off, do they panic and scatter still watching us from a distance, unsure but unwilling to leave.
For a second time in my life I pee in the bush only this time there is an audience. Curious cows peek over bushes still wondering what we are and why one of them squatting on the ground. I have to laugh, not the least embarrassed, praying that the least of my worries is curious herbivores. Visions of the 17 different types of Costa Rican poisonous snakes does slither through my mind, but I cut that thought off quick and jog to catch up with the rest of the group.
Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Ox, we follow a green stumped path through vegetation so dense the hour seems later then it is when we enter. Across a stream the path leads us till we round the bend and find ourselves in the open space of the hot springs. We've found Oz and now it is time to seek the wisdom of nature. Have you ever steeped into a forest stream and felt warm water? Everything your mind has every known is ready for the coldness and when warmth encircles your toes you quickly withdraw them. Could it be? Was it so? Curious and unbelieving you sample the water again and grin. Yes, the river water is warm. Not sun heated warm summer day, but perfect bath water warm. Oz has become the magical place of naturally warmed water, so warm in fact that the hot springs, when the water comes bubbling to the surface can be as hot as 140 degrees. By mixing the boiling water with the cooler water of the stream does it drop down to 106 degrees or so.
Lowering my body into one such pool I can feel my skin cooking, the heat opening all my pores, my mind screaming. Pushing past the intense heat I settle in and close my eyes. My first real soak in a natural hot spring. Who knew the water could be so hot? There are no tourist here. No one else but us in the jungle, soaking away the days travel bumps and jerks. When the heat has thoroughly softened my insides I climb out, skin red and climb my way over rocks to a cooler pool to drop my body temp. In nature's bath we laze away the hour and enjoy the wild beauty around us. There is so much life in the jungle. Sounds are everywhere, constant but comforting. We are not alone, life surrounds us, and I think how in Genesis it says that "God saw that it was good." All that he made met with his approval and it truly is marvelous.
To quickly we are ushered out, there is still more to see and do. Leaving Oz we journey back to our cars and find our way over to our guides house, a working finca. Having heard of his skill for cheese making, Titus is anxious to see how it is done, so we are invited onto his land, and into his workshop. Like stepping back into time he shows us how he separates the curds from the milk, the press he uses to compress the moisture out. I listen and photograph but my attention lingers to the cow behind the fence, to the clucking chickens that scratch and flutter. A farm, teeming with life, activity. The farmer's wife joins us, curious to see what we are so interested in and I ask her the name for pig in Spanish. She tells me, and then noting my fascination with the animal, leads me to a cement pen. Gesturing with her hand to look, I peek over and I see small pink faces peering up at me. Piglets in a bowl stare up with curiosity and grunt a hello. Delighted I snap away and notice that she is smiling at my silliness. Really, photographing piglets, what do these tourists do, I'm sure she thinks? Now wanting to show me more, I'm led to another pen where two large pigs napping, one pink, the other black. A black pig, I had never seen one up close and there he stood, eying me. Even though he was six months old I knew he could knock me down at full charge so I respectfully kept my distance.
Now entranced with the farming life, I'm lead around to see other animals and the greatest joy is finding four puppies, only one month old, lying with their mother near a shed. Gently petting their soft fur I whisper to them and stroke the coat of their mother who proudly hovers near. Puppies, piglets, calves and colts, there are so many babies here on the farm. Too soon we are herded away, but not without finding a mythical animal I have yet to learn it's name. Like something out of Princess Bride, there in the corner of the kitchen, beneath the wooden table lies a "rodent of Unusual Size." With spotted fur like a fawn, claws like a possum and a face like a rat, it's large black eyes stare back as it growls and tries to scurry away. Can this be real? Is this beast not something only found in fairy tales? This is the first time we've ever seen such a thing and we all marvel at it's strangeness. Soon we bid our guests good bye, and pile back into the cars, there are still more farms to see, more firsts to try.
On to the waterfall farm, or so it is called. Told of it's majestic beauty, our cars rock climb for a good while, second gear never being touched we progress so slow. Pulling off to the side of a dirt road we are told we have arrived. The land is sparse, no building in sight, a few random cows moo and then move on. Where is the waterfall? Where is the green? We have dropped lower then the mountains and closer to the dryness of the coast. Slipping through barb wire we cross a barren cow pasture and see the green tree line of water. Soon we hear the rushing of water, but still no waterfall insight. Suddenly we crest the edge of our rock platform and stare down into a large cavernous pool with rushing waters from the falls pouring into it. We really are here.
Climbing down stairs constructed for access ease we make our way out onto the rounded rocks and take a swim in the pool beneath the falls. The water, crisper then the hot springs, is refreshing after a long drive and as we swim our voices and laughter echo off the stones walls that surround us. Our farmer friend mentions that others have jumped from the cliffs of the waterfall into the pool below and tempts us with raised eyebrows? Do we dare? Natalie accepts the challenge and goes first. Like a fearless warrior she stands at the edge of the 35 foot drop and at the count of three throws herself from the safety of the ledge. With a splash she disappears beneath the water, and then surfaces moments later with a grin wider then a slice of heaven. She's done it. The challenge is on and I'm next.
I've never cliff dove before, never really had the chance too. All the falls I've been to have been too dangerous to do so. Now's my chance. Barefoot I retrace the steps we took until I find myself upon the same ledge peering down at the dark swirling waters below. Squashing all thought, knowing reason will chicken me out, I hear "Three" and jump. There is no up when you jump from a cliff, only down and suddenly I'm sucked by gravity. My stomach claws for my throat and a millions thoughts of survival have no time to form as I crash beneath the cold waters and touch the mossy rocks below. For a moment I float beneath the surface, stunned, alive, breath held. I've done it! I've made it, I think as I kick my way to the surface.
We linger a little longer beneath the crystal falls and then push on to the last farm of the day. With a name that translates "farm of the dead baby chicken" there is much promise. We settle upon the porch beside a rushing river and feast upon a delicious lunch that pleases the stomach and tongue. Too soon we are heading home, bodies weary but minds alive. As we near the outskirts of town, a spattering of rain appears on the windshield. Our first rain. With the smell of earth and freshness pushing through the open windows we smile and sigh. Our first taste of the rainy season, a completion to our day and a reminder of what is to come. Thank you God for those blessings you give us, and for days like these.
Now that you've read all about this day check out the pictures (you deserve it)
A Special Thanks to Don for such an amazing day and to Natalie for the perfect blog title.
No comments:
Post a Comment