Costa Rica Retirement – 60 Years Young & Climbing Rincon de la Vieja Volcano
I arrived at Rincon de la Vieja just as the last moments of light were disappearing. The 20km drive from the Pan American Highway was interesting. The soil and rock structure created by ancient lava flows made the drive like no other I had experienced in Costa Rica.
The undulating road had been carved through the soil stratums showing the multi-colored mixture caused by volcanic deposits and sand. Even as dry as this area was, it whetted my appetite for what was to come. Little did I know the trek was going to be 10 miles carrying 30 lbs!
The next morning I ate at 6:45am and began the 5,800-foot climb at 7:30. It was easy at first but after 2k sweat had soaked my shirt. Birds were everywhere! I saw a magnificent toucan, heard quetzals but could not see them. The cacophony of sounds from the surrounding forest was the greatest I had experienced to date in Costa Rica. Only an occasional howler monkey interrupted the music of the forest.
At 4k the angle of accent became steep. I was still breathing easy but taking short breaks every 20 minutes. Unlike Volcan Baru in Panama, the altitude was not going to become a problem but I was carry a backpack, a large fanny pack and tripod. When the path narrowed so only one foot could be placed in front of the other I became concerned about rattlesnakes. They are common in this area.
Most of the time I could not see my feet and it was slippery causing me to occasionally fall. I encountered only two other pairs of hikers to this point and they had passed me long ago. I was resting more because the ascent was the equivalent of climbing flights of stairs 1.5 miles high! I could see Rincon de la Vieja on my left but Santa Maria on the right was in the clouds.
The sign read Crater Activo 2.2k to the left and another Crater Activo 1.7k to the right. I remembered getting so close to Volcan Baru but failing in the final 100-meter climb to the top and it strengthened my resolve. Taking the longer trail to the left I was going no matter what it took out of me. No sooner had I began climbing again than the wind began rising.
My friend Cisco had warned me about the wind. It was only blowing in gusts of 20 mph but as it freshened I began to wonder what the top would bring. The path flattened a little and was not as steep but looking up it was obvious it was going to become worse. The thinner air was making me short of breath.
The trail was becoming narrow again and I needed to rest. I was along a 500-foot cliff bordering the lava flow. About two hundred meters ahead the trail funneled to five-foot. The increasing gusts of wind were forcing me to struggle to maintain my balance. To my left, the long dead multi-colored lava flow from Rincon de la Vieja was an awesome sight. It was sculpted with deep copper and steel gray pockets with cream color 20-foot high streaks sometimes mixed with a deep red. Scattered through the lava was pockets of green vegetation.
The barren crest of the volcano was perhaps 150 meters higher and straight up.
To my right, the rim of cloud-covered Santa Maria could be seen but little more. Behind I could see the outline of the Pacific coast through the salt air but little more. Looking at what still remained of the climb I was confident I could make it but the carrying the backpack up 50 meters that appeared to be straight up was going to be difficult.
I had been climbing for almost 4 hours and the most difficult part remained. As the trail became a narrowed to no more than the width of my shoe the wind increased to 80km (48mph) with higher gusts. One slip and there was nothing to stop me from falling 100 meters or more because I could not see where it ended.
It was time to leave the backpack. I had carried it four miles up the mountain but it was making me feel like a tightrope walker crossing Niagara Falls in the stronger gusts. With less than a mile remaining I wedged the bag with the lenses and 35mm Nikon in the rocks keeping the lighter digital camera around my waist. I was out of water and the rest of the climb was a 75- degree angle straight up but I was going to make it.
At 60 years old, I was not quitting.
