Cycling Across Costa Rica: Steamy Tropical Forests

24 January - 15 February 2024

24 January - Rivas, Nicaragua to Sonzapote, Costa Rica (33.0 mi, 53.1 km)
25 January - Sonzapote to La Cruz (5.3 mi, 8.5 km)
26-29 January - Windy Layover in La Cruz
30 January - La Cruz to Liberia (37.3 mi, 60.0 km)
31 January - Rest Day in Liberia
1 February - Liberia to Las Cañas (29.6 mi, 47.6 km)
2 February - Rest day in Las Cañas
3 February - Las Cañas to Caldera (45.7 mi, 73.5 km)
4 February - Caldera to Mata Limón (1.7 mi, 2.7 km)
5 February - Rest day in Mata Limón
6 February - Mata Limón to Quebrada Ganado (25.5 mi, 41.0 km)
7 February - Rest day in Quebrada Ganado
8 February - Quebrada Ganado to Bejuco (27.3 mi, 43.9 km)
9 February - Bejuco to Quepos (23.0 mi, 37.0 km)
10 February - Quepos to Uvita (39.0 mi, 62.8 km)
11-12 February - Rest days in Uvita
13 February - Uvita to Palmar Norte (28.0 mi, 45.1 km)
14 February - Palmar Norte to Río Claro (37.4 mi, 60.2 km)
15 February - Rest Day in Río Claro

Wind, Wind, and More Wind

As winter cools the North Atlantic Ocean, pressure builds in the atmosphere. Seeking an outlet, the cool air rushes southward towards the warmer Caribbean Sea. When the air hits Central America, tall mountain ranges block its path, building up the pressure even more. However, there are a couple of spots along the Central American isthmus where the mountains fade to nothing, and the highest ridge of land may be only 100 ft (30.5 m) above sea level, or even less. As you would expect, the air rushes through these gaps with incredible force - like a raging river that has found a weak spot in a dam.

We first encountered this phenomenon in southern Mexico, where the Winds of Tehuantepec blew us around on our way to the Guatemalan border. But we were lucky then. It was September, which was a couple of months before the stronger, winter winds would begin to blow. Now we entered the second big gap in late January - smack in the middle of the ‘windy season.’

Near the border between Nicaragua and Costa Rica, the cut in the mountain chain is caused by Lake Nicaragua and the river that connects the lake to the Caribbean. The central ridge is so low in this region that before the construction of the Panama Canal, this route was a popular short-cut from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans for goods and people that wished to avoid the long, dangerous, ocean voyage around Tierra del Fuego at the tip of South America.

But it is windy. Very, very windy. The phenomenon is known as the Papagayo Jet (‘papagayo’ means ‘parrot’). And it blows strongly throughout much of the winter. On our way to Costa Rica, we would have the chance to experience these winds for ourselves.

When we departed Rivas, Nicaragua at 6:20am, it seemed even windier than the day before. We were pretty surprised by this, because in most places the mornings are still, and the wind doesn’t gain strength until later in the day. Fortunately, the landscape was pretty flat. That helped us maintain some forward momentum. But to our chagrin we found ourselves cycling into a really fierce headwind. The sustained winds blew at 25 mph (40 kph), with gusts up to 45 mph (72 kph).

On the bright side, it wasn’t a side wind. So neither one of us got blown off the road. Strong, gusty side winds are a menace for cyclists, especially when the bike is decked out with panniers that catch the wind even more. It’s the side winds that are most likely to send a cyclist tumbling into the ditch, or worse, suddenly careening into the traffic lane. When there’s not a big shoulder, the extra turbulence of passing cars and trucks is even more dangerous. But cyclists still hate headwinds. The extra effort of cycling into the wind makes it feel like you’re cycling up a big hill all day. We put our heads down and plowed on.

Heading for the Border

Near the small, lakeside town of La Virgin our route drew close to the shore of Lake Nicaragua. Thick trees and rows of houses prevented us from getting a good view of the lake. But we could hear the constant sound of waves crashing against the beach. Whenever we caught a glimpse of the lake, we were impressed at the size of the big waves. A thick, hazy mist hung over the lake, as the heaving water threw fine droplets into the air to be carried away by the wind - and to settle on our skin like a fine drizzle.

A statue of Cornelius Vanderbilt stood at an intersection where our route drew close to Lake Nicaragua. Vanderbilt is most famous in the USA as a railroad baron. But his early fortune came from running a steamship business transporting people from the Caribbean to the Pacific Ocean across Nicaragua during the California gold rush. La Virgen, Dept of Rivas, Nicaragua. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We saw surprisingly large numbers of these crested caracaras in the area near Lake Nicaragua. Several clusters of at least 10 birds, and many smaller groups, haunted the trees that lined the road. Our best guess was that they had easy access to plenty of fish that were carried ashore by the big waves, driven by the strong winds. Los Pochotes, Dept of Rivas, Nicaragua. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Agriculture was the dominant land use in southwestern Nicaragua. The flat, dry lowlands seemed particularly good for raising hay. South of El Limón, Dept of Rivas, Nicaragua. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The presence of large wind farms was a good indicator that we were traveling through a perpetually windy place. These big turbines were spinning briskly, as we forced our way through the strong headwind. Amayo, Dept of Rivas, Nicaragua. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The wind turbines are so huge it’s hard to appreciate just how gigantic the propeller blades are. We were astonished by the size of this single propeller blade, which was on display near the entrance to the wind farm. (Note the tiny figure of PedalingGal standing in front of the blade.) Amayo, Dept of Rivas, Nicaragua. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A swampy, lowland river on the way to the border. Majeste River, Dept of Rivas, Nicaragua. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A Nice, Easy Crossing into Costa Rica

Exiting Nicaragua wasn’t nearly the bureaucratic adventure that entering the country had been. First we paid a US$1 municipal fee for the privilege of entering the immigration building. Then at the service window we had our photos and fingerprints taken, and paid a US$3 per person exit fee.

The biggest challenge we faced was that our hands were very sweaty from the hot and humid ride, so the fingerprint machine had a hard time getting a good image. The immigration officer waited semi-patiently as we repeatedly wiped our fingertips on our (also damp) clothes - which didn’t really help - and as we fruitlessly repositioned our fingers on the scanner. We both had to try the scan multiple times before finally getting the green light. Eventually we were given our final stamps out of Nicaragua, although PedalingGuy remarked that he thought they never really got a good scan of his fingers. The Nicaraguan immigration officer just gave up, and let him pass.

After leaving Nicaragua, we then had to pay a visit to Costa Rican immigration before we could proceed into the country. It was over in a flash. There was no line. The border officer who processed our passports looked very bored, showing no interest in us whatsoever. She didn’t ask any questions, and gave us a full, 180-day tourist visa without even asking. We even avoided a scan of our panniers by parking our bikes past the customs building before entering immigration. The whole process took less than 10 minutes.

We were particularly happy that we were not asked to produce proof of onward travel (e.g., a flight or bus ticket out of Costa Rica). This is supposedly a requirement to enter Costa Rica on a tourist visa, which is a little ridiculous if you plan on departing the country by bicycle at another land border crossing. Some cyclists have had to book an airline ticket that they then canceled after crossing the border. Fortunately, we were spared that headache.

Then we hit the hills of Costa Rica. The climbing started pretty much right at the border. It wasn’t like the ascent was huge or very steep - it was actually a fairly tame climb on a comfortably wide road shoulder. But after several weeks of nearly flat cycling in Honduras and Nicaragua, our legs didn’t really appreciate it - especially following the morning’s 3.5 hour slog into the headwind. The best thing about the hill was that it blocked some of the wind, but it was still breezy enough to help cool us off a little bit.

We passed a line of trucks that stretched for nearly five miles, as they waited to cross the border into Nicaragua. This photo was taken about 3 miles (4.8 km) from the border, and the end of the line was nowhere in sight. PanAmerican Highway, south of Peñas Blancas border crossing, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Our first encounter with Costa Rican wildlife occurred along the road barely five miles after crossing the border. Although these two creatures were small, the drama was very real. The wasp is a *Zethus apicalipennis* (no common name), which entombs caterpillars with its eggs to feed the young larvae when they hatch. The caterpillar might have been too large for the wasp to carry away, but based on its lethargic movements, it probably had already been stung. PanAmerican Hwy south of Peñas Blancas, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

An Oasis in the Jungle

Costa Rica is world famous for its incredible abundance of nature. Nearly 30% of the country is protected within national parks and other ecological reserves. Furthermore, much of Costa Rica avoided the wave of deforestation that occurred throughout the Americas over the past couple of centuries. During the past 50+ years Costa Rica’s leaders have embraced nature-based tourism as a major economic driver, and the public remains largely supportive of conservation efforts. As a result, there are hundreds of small businesses whose primary focus is helping visitors enjoy the county’s natural wonders, and providing opportunities to view wildlife. We were really looking forward to cycling through this natural wonderland.

We rode steadily for about an hour after crossing the border. With the mercury rising fast, we were eager to reach our destination as quickly as possible.

Around 11:30am we arrived at the entrance to the Finca Cañas Castilla, a delightful cluster of cabins and a campground tucked back in the jungle, about a 15 minute ride from the highway. We had heard about the Finca from others, and it seemed like a great place to start our stay in Costa Rica - and to begin enjoying the country’s famous, natural beauty.

Rolling into Finca Cañas Castilla, a small eco-lodge near the border with Nicaragua. Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Our room wasn’t ready that early, though. So we passed the time sipping cold drinks on the big, shaded patio near the registration office, and chatting with Agi, one of the owners. She showed us a two-toed sloth high in a mango tree. It was sleeping on its back and curled up in a ball, masquerading as a bundle of moss. We never would have guessed it was a sloth without her help.

This is the best look we got at the Hoffmann’s two-toed sloth curled up in a ball, high in a mango tree. This sloth never moved during the day, and we would not have found it without the help of the owner of the property. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We also decided to check out a troop of howler monkeys down by the river. It’s hard to miss howler monkeys when they are in the area. They occasionally let out a primeval roar that echos through the forest. As if that wasn’t enough, they have a distinctive smell that even our insensitive human noses can detect. They are relatively slow moving herbivores that aren’t as shy as most other primates. We were able to get a really good look at the troop, which had over 20 individuals.

The mantled howler monkeys down by the Sapoá River were much more active than the sloth, clambering around the branches and feeding on the young leaves. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Eventually we gained access to our cabin. It was absolutely wonderful considering that it was out in the forest. After a deliciously hot shower we relaxed in the cool of the air conditioned room, or outside on one of the hammocks on the porch.

Taking a break in the afternoon heat. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The Finca had a couple of hiking trails that traversed some wooded ravines and climbed onto an exposed hilltop. So around 4:30pm, as the afternoon began to cool down, we went out for a walk.

The trail crossed several ravines with streams at the bottom. This habitat is known as Costa Rican moist forest, and it forms a narrow band between the wetter, mountain cloud forests and the drier coastal areas near Nicaragua. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The impressive thorns of a ceiba (kapok) tree. One of the giants of tropical rainforests, mature trees can reach up to 250 ft (76 m) in height - towering over the canopy of surrounding trees. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We were delighted to spot this gorgeous, long-tailed manakin sitting quietly among the branches. Unfortunately, it was the wrong time of year to see their famous mating dance, in which a pair of males will leap over each other, fluttering and fluffing their wings in the air while performing a duet of rhythmic calls - all to impress the drab, green females. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The view from an open hillside along the trail. This gives a sense of how rugged the land is underneath the blanket of trees. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

At the top of a hill about 2/3 of the way through the hike we encountered something totally unexpected: a long-haired billy goat with spiraled horns that swept back gracefully from its face. He stood on a small, wooden platform at the side of the trail, looking rather like a sentry keeping guard. We wondered if he was at all territorial, and approached cautiously. But although the extra height of the platform made him seem a little intimidating at first, he watched us go by with only mild curiosity.

This handsome, long-haired goat stood watch over the trail we followed through the forest. He looked like he might be an Arawapa goat - one of the rarest goat breeds in the world, and descended from an Olde English breed that became feral on a New Zealand island. We wondered what brought such a rare domestic breed to rural Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Sunset was at 5:30pm, so by the time we reached the top of the hill it was starting to get pretty dark. As we descended into another ravine the twilight deepened, and we saw a winged shape land in a tree less than 100 feet away. There was just enough light to see what it was - a gorgeous spectacled owl. We all watched each other for several minutes. But since we were a little turned around (i.e., lost), didn’t have any lights other than our phones, and nightfall was upon us, we decided we had better get back to the cabins as fast as possible and not try and get a better picture of the owl.

A spectacled owl watched us intently from a tree on the far side of a forested ravine, as darkness fell. The fuzzy photo is a result of the very dim light. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Dinner that night was a communal event, with all of the Finca’s guests served simultaneously at big tables on the central patio. The four-course meal included deliciously-grilled fish that was delivered fresh from the ocean earlier in the day, washed down with fresh-squeezed passion-fruit juice. It was heavenly. On our way back to the cabin we had to watch our step, to avoid tripping over the giant cane toads, bigger than a person’s fist, out hunting along the path. It was a quiet, restful night.

The next morning we had enough time to squeeze in another walk. We spotted the local crocodile that haunted the slow-moving water in the river. There were fewer birds out and about than there had been the previous evening, but the diversity of interesting butterflies made up for that.

This American crocodile was cruising the waters in a slow-moving section of the Sapoá River, right near the Finca. It looked like it might be about 8 ft long (2.5m). That’s pretty big, but this species can grow up to 20 ft (6.1 m), so it still had some more growing to do. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Several fallen logs along the river bank were literally covered with these fascinating butterflies. Their camouflage was perfect, making them nearly impossible to see when they sat still on the log. But when approached, they would burst forth in a fluttering gray cloud that was almost like confetti filling the air. Variable cracker butterfly, Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A green kingfisher surveyed her domain from a rocky outcrop in the Sapoá River. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The pale owl-butterfly gets its name from the big ‘eyespot’ on its hind wing that humans think looks like the eye of an owl. The butterflies will flash the eyespot when they feel threatened, suggesting that the owl-like stare is meant to startle predators. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Over-night rain had swollen the water in one of the small streams, creating a lovely waterfall. Finca Cañas Castilla, Sonzapote, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Back at the main shelter, we shared our breakfast table with a friendly Swiss couple who had been traveling across Costa Rica in a rented camper truck for the past five days. They had come through the mountains from San Jose, in the exact area that we were planning to cycle. When we asked them how it was, their answer was that it was very wet with significant rain every day! That’s not exactly what we wanted to hear. We did not look forward to cycling in the rain, especially since the air already was extremely humid and once you got wet, it was very difficult to dry off. We started to wonder if a route through the mountains was such a good idea.

We finally left the beautiful, jungle oasis of the Finca around 11:30am, with the howler monkeys bellowing out their calls in the background. To give ourselves time for a leisurely morning at the Finca, we had planned to keep our day’s ride very short - just 5.5 miles (8.8 km) to the town of La Cruz (pop. 10,300). Even so, we sweltered as we cycled in the midday heat, with little or no shade as we climbed up another big ridge to reach the hilltop city.

The road to La Cruz took us out of the tropical forest and back into the drier landscape that borders the Pacific Ocean. PanAmerican Hwy north of La Cruz, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Fifty minutes later we arrived at our hotel. It was perched right on the edge of a high escarpment that rose more than 800 feet above the coastal plain below - revealing a truly spectacular view of a sparkling blue bay, bordered by a rugged peninsula on the far side. It was one of the most breathtaking views we had ever had at a hotel.

This was the view from the back porch of our hotel - a sweeping panorama of Salinas Bay, with farmland below and multiple mountain ridges fading into the distance. La Cruz, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

But everything else about the place was very quirky, and not always in a good way. There were five rooms, of which only a couple seemed to be available for rent. The room we got was large but it had three beds crammed in, so there was actually very little space to move around, and no good spot for the bikes. Someone associated with the owners must have been an aspiring artist, because every inch of wall space was covered with giant, original, painted canvases in the same, muted-color, abstract style. That might have been nice, except that the exposed canvas seemed so delicate that you couldn’t lean anything (like a bike, or your back if you were sitting on a bed) against the paintings for fear of damaging them. That made the room feel even more cramped.

Finally, the room next to ours had what appeared to be a permanent resident - a single guy who liked to play his music VERY loudly in the early afternoons. For a couple of hours each day our room would throb with each beat of the music, as if we were in a nightclub. Fortunately, the other amenities like plenty of hot water, strong, reliable wifi, a mini fridge and the most incredible view ever far offset the few inconveniences.

Our somewhat cramped hotel room. The paintings on the walls were clearly originals, with the unprotected canvas mounted on wooden frames. We had to be very careful not to damage the artwork, which made moving around inside the room problematic. La Cruz, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Another quirky feature of the hotel was this old-fashioned ‘international’ phone hung near the registration desk. We didn’t think to lift the headset and check for a dial tone - so we’ll never know whether the phone was still functional, with Ernestine the Telephone Operator on the other end of the line. La Cruz, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

That afternoon, what had earlier been a brisk wind turned into a raging gale. Little did we know… La Cruz is one of the windiest, inhabited places in Central America because of the Papagayo Jet. If you look at the wind maps in weather apps, La Cruz consistently shows up as the windiest town in Costa Rica. Its exposed location on the crest of a ridge, with a precipitous drop off towards the ocean, is the perfect recipe for catching the brunt of the Papagayo Jet. And we were about to get a taste of it.

Wind Delay in La Cruz

What had been one, planned rest day in La Cruz gradually stretched into four days of waiting. We soon learned that a very high pressure weather system had settled in over the Caribbean, generating even more fierce winds than usual. It was national news. For the next week the wind consistently blew between 35-50 mph (55-80 kph). Periods of sunshine were mixed with episodes of driving rain. Trying to cycle in that weather just didn’t make any sense.

We managed to get out each morning for a walk around the small town center, and out to several spectacular overlooks that faced the ocean. But other than that, we hunkered down in the hotel room, listening to the wind howl. Some quick research confirmed that the news we got from the Swiss couple about rainy conditions in the Costa Rican mountains was accurate. So we also used the down time in La Cruz to plan a new route along the Pacific Coast, which we hoped would keep us drier.

One of several, panoramic overlooks along the top of the ridge. La Cruz, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

In between blustery rain showers, a sign of hope for better weather. La Cruz, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We’re always impressed at how well palm trees handle really strong winds. This exposed coconut palm endured 30-50 mph (55-80 kph) winds for weeks at a time. La Cruz, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A final sunset view from the balcony of our hotel, with Salinas Bay below. La Cruz, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Cowboy Country

By the fifth day we were itching to get back on the road. Although it was still incredibly windy in La Cruz, we had reached the conclusion that if we could get away from the Papagayo Jet corridor, we might have a prayer of leaving the gales behind.

When we woke up at 5am, the wind was still pummeling our hotel. Dark clouds filled the sky and a light rain was falling. These things did not bode well for a day of cycling, but we were determined to escape the grip of La Cruz. So we dressed, packed up our things, and ate a light breakfast in our room - all the while second-guessing our decision to depart. A couple of times we came quite close to aborting our plan. But we managed to convince ourselves that we should be able to cycle a mere 27 miles (43.5 km) to a roadside hotel, even if the weather didn’t improve. It was time to go.

Once we hit the road the weather was, as expected, quite miserable. For the first 5-10 miles (8-16 km) we plowed ahead through a cool drizzle made much more unpleasant by 20-30 mph (32-48 kph) winds.

But there was light at the end of the tunnel that gave us hope. Pretty early in the ride we could see the edge of the weather front - and the crisp edge of the cloud cover - in the distance ahead of us. Ever so slowly, the wind died down. After about 40 minutes of cycling the rain subsided. And by the time we had ridden for an hour we found ourselves cycling under mostly sunny skies. The temperature became much more comfortable, and the surrounding trees gave us some protection from the wind. It was like we had cycled onto a different planet.

For the next hour our route passed right between two famous Costa Rican national parks: Guanacaste and Santa Rosa. It was interesting to cycle through the “green corridor,” and think about how these two parks are part of a grand network of protected areas. It’s one of the few places in Central America where an unbroken swath of natural habitat connects the ocean with the peaks of distant volcanoes in the center of the country. Unfortunately it was still pretty windy, which meant there wasn’t much chance for us to see any birds or other wildlife.

This roadside sign implied that lots of animals cross the highway between Santa Rosa and Guanacaste National Parks. Sadly, we didn’t see any of them. PanAmerican Hwy, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

This sign says “You are passing through a green tunnel of biodiversity,” with two of Costa Rica’s famous national parks adjoining the road for many miles. PanAmerican Hwy, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

After leaving the parks, we entered cattle country. (In fact, Guanacaste National Park was created, in large part, when struggling cattle farms were purchased during a slump in beef prices in the 1980s. Its forests are still regenerating from the over-grazing of that era.) The sides of the road became a parade of pastures and hayfields, with cow and cowboy motifs everywhere.

The grasslands of Costa Rica’s dry forest habitats had mostly been converted to ranch lands. Ahogados, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Once we had escaped the grip of La Cruz’s stormy weather we made great time. It was only 9:30am when we drew close to the roadside hotel at 27 miles (43.5 km). With the weather now in our favor, that was way too early to stop for the day. After a quick roadside consultation, we agreed that we should definitely continue all the way to the city of Liberia (pop. 40,000). We would still likely arrive before noon.

On the outskirts of Liberia, we stopped to watch this guy practicing by the side of the road with his fancy-stepping horse. Liberia, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A Day in the ‘White City’

The wind was howling again when we awoke the next morning, so we hunkered down for another day. But we didn’t mind so much. It was nice to have a new town to explore.

Liberia’s central plaza looked like it had been renovated recently. Wide concrete paths surrounded small patches of grass, that were populated with very short, newly-planted trees. In the center of the plaza stood one, big, old guanacaste tree, which had been spared from the renovations. It seemed lonely among all the fresh paving and new plantings. The modern, all-white Church of the Immaculate Conception looked quite striking on one side of the plaza. In fact, white is the favorite color for buildings in Liberia, leading to its nickname as ‘the white city.’ Several other small parks provided some green space among the urban clutter. And a couple of guys entertained passing cars, juggling while balanced on unicycles in the shadow of a highway overpass.

The gleaming, white Church of the Immaculate Conception. Liberia, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Héctor Zúñiga Rovira was a native rancher from Guanacaste, Costa Rica, who became a famous singer and songwriter. He was beloved for his songs about local, rural life. Liberia, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Busking for tips under the highway overpass. Liberia, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Rosquillas, Tanelas, Pipa Fría, and Coyol Wine

We rolled out of Liberia around 6am, hoping to cover some miles before the wind picked up again. It was actually already windy, but not horrible. For the first 1.5 hours we rolled along pretty quickly. We were lucky that the road between Liberia and Las Cañas had morphed into a big highway with a wide, paved shoulder.

Farms and ranches now dominated the landscape. We passed large hayfields, stands of sugar cane, and even a few rice fields, made possible by the abundance of surface water. The road passed over numerous swift-flowing streams, plus some channelized waterways that looked like their primary purpose was irrigation.

Swift-flowing streams were abundant, even though the land looked arid in the dry season. Piedras River, near Bagaces, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The increase in farms and towns along the highway was accompanied by a profusion of roadside vendors, all selling the same couple of snacks and drinks - rosquillas, tanelas, coyol wine and pipa fría. We were intrigued. What were these mysterious foods?

It turns out that the people of northwestern Costa Rica have developed a very strong affinity for a small number of home-grown snack foods and drinks. Most of the families that operate the roadside stalls still make them using traditional recipes that have been handed down through generations. The rosquillas and tanelas are cookies and sweet cakes made from corn flour. Vino de coyol is a regional version of moonshine made from the local coyol palm (which is reputed to produce intoxication that lasts for several days). And pipa fría is coconut juice which is drunk directly from a fresh coconut that has been cooled in a refrigerator, and chopped open on the spot with a machete. Among these, only pipa fría is widespread in the tropics. The other three foods are distinctly local specialties.

Roadside signs advertising rosquillas (corn flour cookies), vino de coyol (a palm-sap version of moonshine) and tanelas (corn flour sweet cakes). We saw dozens of roadside stalls selling the same three regional specialties on the road from Liberia to Las Cañas. Montenegro, Guanacaste, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Although pipa fría (fresh coconut juice, drunk directly from the nut) is popular throughout Central America, the density of pipa fría roadside vendors was particularly striking in northwestern Costa Rica. Montenegro, Guanacaste, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The final ten miles (16 km) of our ride into Las Cañas (pop. 26,500) were the hardest. The wind increased dramatically in intensity to 25 mph, gusting to 50 mph. It also shifted to the east. So for the last 1.5 hours we slogged into a blustery headwind. The terrain was fairly moderate. But each time we crested the top of one of the many, rolling hills we were pummeled by the wind. It was bliss when we were able to check into a hotel before noon, and find some refuge from the sun and wind.

Our forward progress was thwarted once again as we tried to make plans for the next few days. It was a Thursday, and we discovered that all the hotels within cycling range didn’t have any availability on Friday night. Plus, we didn’t see any good camping options. It soon became apparent that we would be taking another layover day in Las Cañas. This wasn’t such a bad development, because Friday was predicted to be the last really windy day before the big high-pressure system in the Caribbean would dissipate. So delaying our departure until Saturday would mean that we would finally get to do some cycling without struggling against the wind.

Las Cañas was a sprawling rural town that prided itself in its agricultural roots. A lot of the pubic art showcased farm and ranch themes. The town’s most famous landmark is the central church, which has an exterior completely covered in mosaic tiles. They say that the design incorporates more than a million tiles, giving the church a very distinctive and unique appearance.

Like much of the public art in town, this rooster evoked the region’s strong agricultural roots. Las Cañas, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The Church of Las Cañas, situated next to the central plaza, was decorated with more than a million tiny tiles that formed a beautiful, mosaic facade. Las Cañas, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Most of the mosaic designs on the church were abstract or geometric patterns. But on the far right side there was an image of a person, perhaps a carpenter? Las Cañas, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

This statue in the central plaza paid homage to the humble campesinos that worked the farms, and brought prosperity to the region. Las Cañas, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The Best of Days, the Worst of Days

The bike ride from Las Cañas to Caldera would be a relatively long one. The nearest, reasonable lodging that we could find was 51 miles (82 km) down the road. That was a bit farther than we had been cycling lately, but it didn’t seem too intimidating. The road conditions had been really great since we entered Costa Rica, with a wide, paved shoulder and pretty modest hills. The main factor that caused us difficulty was the wind, and we would finally be free of that curse. Yesterday the wind had been blowing at 25-40 mph (40-65 kph), but today it would top out at around 10 mph (16 kph). Plus, even when we had cycled into the wind, we made enough progress to arrive at our destinations before noon. So, what could possibly go wrong?

As expected, the day started off great. We were worried about the afternoon heat, so we woke up at 4:45am, and we were on the road by 5:40am - well before sunrise. The first 14 miles (22.5 km) flew by as we cycled on the smooth, paved margin of a modern, 4-lane highway. The many hills were fun to cycle up and down, rather than being difficult.

Along the way we passed a breeding colony of Montezuma oropendolas, one of the world’s most fascinating birds. They’re quite large - about the size of a small hawk. Their nests are built as colonies of woven baskets hanging from the branches of the tallest trees - like long pendulums that blow in the wind. And once you’ve heard the mating call of the males, it’s a sound you’ll never forget - a rich, bubbling sound full of harmonic tones. It’s been described as sounding like water being poured quickly out of a bottle, but it’s much louder and more musical than that. For 20 minutes we enjoyed watching the birds come and go from the nests, while the dominant male performed his courtship display - in which he literally turned upside down on the branch where he was sitting, fluttering his wings and emitting the beautiful call.

A male Montezuma oropendola, taking a break between performances of his courtship display. South of San Miguel, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

When we stopped for a break in the town of Limonal we were in high spirits. It looked like we would arrive at our destination early, which was fortuitous given that it was only 7:30 am, but was already unusually hot.

We were still very much in cowboy country. Limonal, Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica.. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

But in cycling, it’s never good to assume the good conditions will last. Upon leaving Limonal, things turned ugly.

Almost immediately the modern highway ended, and it was gone for the remainder of the day. Instead, we found ourselves on a narrow, 2-lane road (one lane in each direction), with no shoulder for us to ride on. Nothing. All of the traffic from the highway was now squeezed into the narrow single lane. But the cars, trucks and buses seemed intent on going just as fast as they had been before (on the modern highway). Many vehicles whooshed past us too close for comfort, and many drivers tried to pass each other in places where they clearly shouldn’t. It suddenly felt quite perilous.

These narrow, shoulder-less roads are dangerous not only for cyclists but also for the motorized traffic. If a vehicle is going at speed and leaves the pavement with one set of tires it is very easy to lose control and flip.

The only saving grace was that for some of the remaining 35 miles (56 km) there was a rough gravel track that paralleled the main road. We could ride more-or-less safely on the gravel. But that slowed us down dramatically, and made the cycling much more difficult as the mercury continued to rise. Whenever the gravel track ended, we had to ride on the pavement. That involved waiting in the weeds on the side of the road until the traffic cleared, then having to quickly get off the road again if a truck came up behind us.

Suddenly our rate of travel was cut in half. The remainder of the ride - that we had expected to take 3-4 hours - stretched out to 6-8 hours, and into the hottest part of the day. To top it off, the small stores that had been common on the road behind us disappeared. We were going to have to make do with the limited water we had with us, as the afternoon became very warm. Before long we were both sweating profusely. Even though we had brought extra drinks with us, we guzzled them down quickly and started to ration our remaining water.

Then we had another stroke of bad luck. Just a few miles before reaching the city of Puntarenas, sealant started spewing out of both PedalingGuy’s front and back tires at the same time. He must have run over some sharp objects in the gravel. On the side of the busy road, in the intense sun, with heat radiating from the road, we struggled to get the punctures in both tires fixed. We both felt dizzy and drained from the heat, which was magnified once we were no longer being cooled by the air flow from cycling. As we were preparing to cycle onward, PedalingGuy startled PedalingGal by saying that he “didn’t have much left in him.” These words have never come out of his mouth before. Usually it’s PedalingGal who starts dragging from the heat and humidity. This was not a good sign.

We pushed on, knowing that there was a restaurant just three miles (5 km) away, if we could just get that far.

But we didn’t.

When we reached the edge of the town of Barranca around 2pm, PedalingGuy just barely made it onto the first sidewalk, in the shade of some trees. He stopped, and promptly fainted while standing over his bike. PedalingGal grabbed the bike to keep him from falling over right there.

After a few moments he came to, and was able to dismount his bike and lay down on the sidewalk in the shade. He kept repeating that he just needed a minute or two to recover, so he could make it to the restaurant which was now only 1.5 miles (2.4 km) away - where we anticipated air conditioning and unlimited cold drinks. But after 10, 15, and 20 minutes his condition did not improve. His heart rate remained over 100bpm (his normal resting heart rate is in the 50’s).

There was a convenience store not far away, and PedalingGal ran back and forth a couple of times to buy some Gatorade, cold water, and an ice bag to help cool him off. Before long, we had attracted a crowd of concerned bystanders who wanted to know if we needed help. PedalingGuy kept insisting he would soon feel better. The ice helped to lower his heart rate, but by this point he was too dehydrated to drink. His face was pale, and his muscles were cramping up and he was going in and out of consciousness.

After a little over an hour, someone called an ambulance. The EMTs said that PedalingGuy’s blood pressure was very low. One thing we learned was that we probably should not have let him lay down. We should have kept him sitting up or at least elevated his head and had him start drinking a zero-calorie electrolyte drink right away. Once he had lain down for a while, it was basically impossible to get him upright again without passing out.

The EMTs recommended taking PedalingGuy to a nearby medical clinic. They were wonderfully helpful in calling a pickup truck to bring the bikes along with us. The pickup truck followed us to the clinic, while PedalingGal rode in the ambulance with PedalingGuy.

By the time we arrived at the clinic PedalingGuy was in pretty bad shape. His muscles were cramping horribly, he was unable to catch his breath, he was delirious, and his stomach eventually rejected his breakfast. PedalingGal was incredibly grateful for the kind and thoughtful support from the clinic staff, especially the doctor, Stephanie. PedalingGuy received an electrolyte IV drip until the clinic had to close at 5pm.

At 5pm, the clinic was closing for the night. But PedalingGuy was not yet well enough to be discharged, even after receiving 1.5L of fluids from an IV. He still looked pale, the cramping continued, and he still had trouble controlling his breath. The doctor thought that his kidneys might have shut down and were still not processing fluids. So the clinic arranged for another ambulance to transport us to the local hospital. Stephanie, the doctor, said she would take our bicycles home with her, and we could retrieve them in the morning. She was amazing, and really helped us to feel like everything would work out okay.

Compared to the clinic, the hospital was a dreary place and the care we received was much less personable. It took nearly an hour to get PedalingGuy checked in and to get another IV going, not ideal in a hot, poorly ventilated hospital when you are dehydrated. For the next three hours PedalingGuy remained on a gurney in one of the hospital hallways, connected to an IV drip. They also ran some tests, and thankfully all of the results came back normal. PedalingGuy just needed the fluids. Eventually the color returned to his skin, his legs stopped cramping, and his breathing settled down. In the end he received four liters of IV electrolyte serum.

After an agonizingly long checkout and payment process we left the hospital around 9:45pm. We hunted down a taxi, and finally made it to a hotel. Unfortunately, all of our stuff was still in the panniers on our bikes, at the doctor’s home, so all we had were the cloths we were wearing. But it didn’t matter. We were happy to be out of the hospital and settled in a safe and air conditioned room.

Recovering in Mata Limón

The next day started with a wonderful, leisurely breakfast at a nearby restaurant. PedalingGuy drank a lot.

Our hotel was just across a busy road from the Gulf of Nicoya, a very popular area among expats, tourists and container ships waiting to load or unload at a nearby port.

Container ships anchored in the Gulf of Nicoya. Caldera, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

In talking about the previous day, it was interesting that PedalingGuy really couldn’t remember much of what happened. He could recall getting loaded onto a stretcher but had no memory of being in two different ambulances. He could only remember a couple snippets of things that happened in the clinic and hospital. He could remember that when he started to breath hard, probably due to low blood volume, he would ask for oxygen, which he thought we were giving him through an oxygen mask. This would slow down his breathing. But he was amused to learn that the supposed ‘oxygen mask’ was just a plastic bag meant to keep him from hyperventilating.

Among the generous folks who helped us out in our time of need was Jefry, the manager of our hotel. When he heard about what had happened, he told us that he had a pickup truck that was perfect for hauling our bikes. He offered to take us to Stephanie’s house to retrieve them since her home was too far away to walk. The trip to get the bikes went smoothly. Both Jefry and Stephanie were beyond wonderful.

PedalingGal and Dr. Stephanie, retrieving our bikes (which she had stored for us at her home). She was one of several angels that helped us when we ran into trouble with dehydration from the Costa Rican heat. Barranca, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The only hiccup was that the hotel where we had spent the previous night was fully booked going forward. So we had to find another place in the area to stay while we took a rest day (as per doctors orders) to stay off the bikes and fully recover from our ordeal. However, it definitely worked out for the best. We decided to give ourselves a treat and stay at one of the nicer hotels nearby. After a short, 10 minute bike ride we were settling into a nice big room with air conditioning, a fridge and hot water. Best of all, our room had a view over a picturesque little bay. It was a great place to recuperate.

Sunset over the mangrove-lined bay at Mata Limón, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We spent the next day enjoying a leisurely walk among the mangroves and out to the Gulf of Nicoya, capped off with a delicious dinner at a local restaurant. Gradually the stiffness from the previous day’s cramping left PedalingGuy’s legs.

A black, spiny-tailed lizard smiled for his close-up. Mata Limón, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We loved how they repurposed some little boats to make picnic areas along the beach. Caldera, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Costa Rica’s motto is *Pura Vida* (‘pure life’) - not just a slogan, but a state of mind. Caldera, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Over the previous couple of days, several people (including Stephanie, Jefry, and the clerk at our new hotel) told us that this was the hottest January/February that they could ever remember. The temperature was hot - but not extreme. The trouble was that the humidity was hovering at 90-100%, on top of temperatures in the mid-90s. That made the ‘feels like’ temperature over 140F (60C)!!

We subsequently decided that we would put even more effort into avoiding bike travel in the afternoon. This was something we were already doing, but the slow down due to bad road conditions and the lack of anywhere to get water had caught us off guard. We usually carry extra water in case something like that happens. But the amount of extra water required under the extremely hot and humid conditions, combined with the worst highway conditions we had experienced since leaving Alaska, and simultaneous front and back flat tires in the heat of the day, was more than we were prepared for.

One last view from our hotel room. Mata Limón, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The Crocodile Bridge

With our new commitment to cycling only in the (relatively) cooler part of the day, we woke up early and put our lights on our bikes for a predawn departure at 4:45am. We skipped breakfast to get out on the road as early as possible. It was an auspicious start to a great day. Once again, we were back on a road that had a pretty good shoulder for cycling. Even on a winding, 2-lane road we felt much safer, because there also was a lot less traffic.

The habitat along the road was mostly second-growth forest. But in some areas the land had been cleared for pastures. It was in one of these pastures that we spotted a bird we had been hoping to see - the double-striped thick-knee. It’s not that these birds are beautiful or flashy (although they do have large, owl-like eyes with yellow irises that make them look quite different from most birds). Perhaps what makes them interesting is their large size, fanciful name, and the fact that there are no species within the thick-knee family found north of Mexico. Whatever the reason, we had been hoping to see these birds, and were delighted when we spotted a couple of them in the grass not far from the road.

A double-striped thick-knee (notice the big joints in its long, yellow legs). Although they are related to shorebirds, these birds do not care for the water. They prefer arid grasslands. Guácimo, Alajuela Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

An hour and a half into the ride we took a nice, long break at a convenience store to fully rehydrate. On the wall of the store we spotted a tiny, pea-green moth that was no bigger than a fingernail.

This itsy-bitsy moth was resting on the wall of a convenience store. A member of the ‘emerald moth’ genus, *Synchlora concinnaria* has no common name. Not much is known about this particular moth, but the tiny caterpillars of other *Synchlora* species are best known for camouflaging themselves by sticking fragments of the plants they are eating onto spikes on their bodies. Coyolar, Alajuela Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The big event for the day was our arrival at Costa Rica’s famous ‘crocodile bridge,’ a span over the Tarcoles River just downstream from Carara National Park. We rolled our bikes onto the protected, pedestrian walkway to have a look, and what we saw was amazing. There were 12 massive American crocodiles basking on the sandbars and floating lazily in the river. This species can supposedly reach up to 20 ft long (6.1 m) and weigh a ton (900+ kg). It wasn’t easy to estimate the size of the crocodiles we saw from the height of the bridge, but a couple of them were huge.

This American crocodile must have been getting warm while sunbathing. They say that crocodiles rest with their mouths open as a way of cooling off. We could relate. Crocodile Bridge, Tarcoles River, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Officials estimate that there are 50-60 crocodiles living in the Tarcoles River. Although the crocodiles are free-roaming and wild, there was a period of about 20 years when guides would feed them as part of their tours. Authorities have recently cracked down on this practice, but many of the crocs have remained close to the bridge, and some people still illicitly feed them.

Among the crocodiles were a couple of brave common basilisk lizards, also trying to catch some rays. Basilisks are easy to identify because of their super-long tails, large hind-legs, and webbed feet which they use to run across the surface of water to escape danger. Crocodile Bridge, Tarcoles River, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

From the bridge it was an easy, half hour ride to the town of Quebrada Ganado. As we got closer to the coast, tourist attractions and fancy resorts began to appear along the side of the road.

A cluster of tourist attractions has sprung up near the Crocodile Bridge. We were amused by this advertisement, complete with a zip-lining mannequin. Tarcoles, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The town of Tarcoles has definitely embraced its identity as the village closest to the Crocodile Bridge. This massive statue sits at the entrance to the main road into town. Tarcoles, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Now that we were completing our daily rides well before noon, we were more likely to have to wait a while for a hotel room to be ready for us. So our new strategy was to arrive in town mid-morning, and settle in for brunch while we waited. There weren’t a lot of dining options in Quebrada Ganado (pop. 3,000), but a local guy directed us to a small, simple kitchen (known in Costa Rica as a ‘soda’) near the heart of town that was still serving breakfast. The crowded, sidewalk tables were in the shade, and the plates of scrambled eggs with rice and beans and fried bananas were hearty. It was a great place to rest and wait.

As we arrived, a guy named Xavier and his wife approached us to chat. Xavier spoke great English, and he was very interested in our bikes. He told us that one of his friends had cycled from the USA to Costa Rica a couple of years ago, and it was his dream to do it, too. He currently worked in the tourism transportation business, and knew a lot about the area’s attractions. PedalingGuy and Xavier talked for quite a while about bikes, while PedalingGal ordered breakfast. Before leaving he gave us his phone number, and urged us to call him if we needed anything. We really appreciated that.

In Search of Scarlet Macaws

We were still taking it gently after the dehydration episode, and Quebrada Ganado turned out to be a wonderful place for a rest day. A relatively quiet dirt road runs for 1.5 miles (2.4 km) from the town to a sleepy beach on the Pacific Ocean. And from what we could tell, it had the potential to yield some fantastic birding. In particular, we heard that there was a good chance we would see some of the area’s most glamorous residents, scarlet macaws.

A gravel road led from the town where we were staying through a fairly mature forest, to an out-of-the-way beach. We went for a walk, hoping to see some interesting birds. Quebrada Ganado, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We had actually caught a couple of glimpses of scarlet macaws since we left the town of Cañas. Every so often a pair or small group of them would fly overhead, high in the sky, squawking loudly enough to get our attention. Even though it was pretty obvious that they were scarlet macaws (bright red with long, streaming tails), they were always so high that getting a good look a them was impossible. We wanted to see them up close, and personal. And this morning’s walk would be our big chance. Any other birds would be a nice bonus.

We were not disappointed. We ended up seeing about 30 species of birds, including several, close encounters with the gorgeous scarlet macaws.

A beautiful turquoise-browed motmot. Quebrada Ganado, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

About halfway down the road, we spotted them. A loving pair of rainbow-hued scarlet macaws. We watched them for quite a while as they groomed each other gently. Then one of the birds flew to a tall tree with a broad trunk and disappeared into a crevice, with just its red tail feathers sticking out. It looked like they had a nest, which was very cool. Later, we spotted another pair (not sure if they were the same ones), prying away the bark of a dead palm tree - presumably to get at some tasty bugs underneath.

A pair of wild scarlet macaws shared a tender moment. Quebrada Ganado, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The presence of some really big, old trees along the road was probably one reason we saw so many birds. Quebrada Ganado, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

At the end of the road lay Playa Agujas, a quiet beach on the Pacific Ocean. We were the only ones there that morning. But as we headed back up the road towards town, a tour group of 25-30 people piled out of a bus and headed towards some kayaks on the beach. Playa Agujas, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Tire Trouble and Toucans

After dinner we checked the pressure in our tires. Three of them were fine, but PedalingGuy’s back tire had lost a ton of air. That was a surprise because we’d already plugged three punctures on that tire in the past few days (including the fateful flat tires on the road from Cañas to Caldera). It was not a good sign that the tire was still leaking. We pumped it up and hunted for the leak. Finally we found a hole and patched it. But the hole was pretty small, and we had our doubts that we had located the right one. Only time would tell…

Well, it didn’t take long for us to get our answer. As we were preparing to depart the next morning, PedalingGuy’s back tire was flat again. Fortunately, we could now see where the sealant had leaked out over night. So we plugged that hole, too. However, when we pumped up the tire we could still hear the telltale sound of air hissing. There was another hole! PedalingGuy’s back tire was now up to eight punctures, and counting. He probably ran over a bunch of glass, or something like it, that weakened his tire in multiple spots. On top of that, all of our tires were getting pretty worn - PedalingGuy’s back tire was just the worst of the lot (at this point it was almost bald). Our plan was to get new tires in Panama City. We just had to make it that far.

We keep track of punctures by marking each one on the bike tires. This morning, PedalingGuy’s back tire hit a record of eight punctures. Quebrada Ganado, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Once we were out on the road, we hadn’t gone very far when we spotted a big bird flying overhead. We stopped to have a look. It was a yellow-throated toucan! (Actually, two of them.) One was gathering twigs from a large ball of fibers, possibly collecting material for a nest. We had missed not seeing toucans on our walk the previous day, and were elated to finally get a chance to watch them in action.

This yellow-throated toucan posed nicely on a branch. We got a real kick out of getting a good look at these odd birds. Quebrada Ganado, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The other big excitement for the day was yet another flat in PedalingGuy’s back tire. It happened when we were about two thirds of the way up a big climb over a ridge, that came very early in the day. It was not a good place to be doing bicycle maintenance - we were on a relatively narrow shoulder with nowhere to pull off the road, without any shade. Fortunately, we were able to plug the hole relatively efficiently, and were soon cycling away. But all of these delays seemed to make the first few miles of our ride last forever.

Once we crossed the top of the ridge, we picked up steam. After the big descent, the terrain was almost flat. Less than two hours into the ride, our route curved west towards the coast, with views of the rocky shoreline reminiscent of Northern California. With each mile we could feel the increasing influence of foreign expat communities that are drawn to this part of Costa Rica. English-language signs, and businesses catering to an upscale, international clientele became more common.

The lovely, rocky coastline along the Pacific Ocean. Hidden Ocean Lookout, PanAmerican Hwy, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A ‘lifestyle’ development catering to upscale, international clients (a big clue - the sign was in English). Hills of Esterillos, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The strip mall along the highway near our hotel had a beat-up, old Caribou airplane in the parking lot. They say it saw duty with the US Air Force in Vietnam, and was later used by the Costa Rican Civil Air Defense Service for drug interdiction and humanitarian operations. Bejuco, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We found a nice, low-key place for dinner, set on a quiet street off the highway. Grilled fish, rice and beans, and fried banana had become our go-to dinner at the local ‘soda’ restaurants. The meals were often really big, filling us up after a tough day of cycling. Bejuco, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Bugs inside hotel rooms were a pretty common occurrence in the tropics. Even geckos lurked in most hotels. But this was the first time we found a crab in our room. Bejuco, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

While we were enjoying our dinner we saw two cyclists ride by, on fully loaded touring bikes. They were heading from the highway towards the beach, looking like they were ready to find a place to rest (they must have ridden through some of the hotter hours of the day). They were gone before we knew it, so we didn’t get a chance to greet them. But we wondered who they were and whether we would encounter them again, further down the road (hint: we would).

Acres of Oil Palms

The terrain from Bejuco to Quepos was almost flat the whole way, and we zoomed along in the early morning light. The big theme for the day was palm oil.

An authentically tropical truck stop - the motmot, named after the bird pictured. Parrita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

For an hour and a half we rode through a green tunnel created by the tall crowns of African oil palm trees. The huge palm plantations were planted in the mid-20h century as an alternative to bananas. Prior to that, bananas had been the primary crop in Costa Rica. But a fungal disease, made worse by several years of rainy weather, began decimating the banana groves in the 1940s. These days, roughly 300 square miles of land in Costa Rica is used to grow oil palms.

Oil palm plantations covered hundreds of square miles of land in south-central Costa Rica. Near Parrita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Old traditions are very much alive in these rural plantations. At one point some guys stopped traffic on the PanAmerican Highway to allow four ox-drawn carts to cross. The plantations still use ox carts to transport the big masses of palm fruits from the trees to larger trucks, that haul them to the oil processing plant.

A plantation worker drove his ox cart through the forest of African oil palms, on the way to collecting the palm fruits and hauling them to a larger, gas-powered truck. Near Parrita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A Roadside Hawk (yes, that’s its name) on the roadside. Near Parrita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

With our pre-dawn departures, we were arriving at our destination towns by mid-morning. However, it’s not considered polite to arrive at a hotel around 9-11am in the morning and expect to be given a room. So our new routine included stopping for breakfast as we got close to our destination. Around 8:30am we took a break at a convenience store to rest and rehydrate. Since we had only about 15 minutes left of cycling before reaching our hotel, we lingered at an indoor table for about an hour.

We were delighted when the hotel in Quepos (pop. 20,000) agreed to let us into a room when we arrived, even though it was only 10am. But then we got the bad news. They wouldn’t give us the remote to turn on the air conditioning in the hot room until the regular check-in time at 2pm. That killed our enthusiasm pretty quickly since it was very hot in the room. We took a couple of minutes to move our bikes safely into the room (it was great that we wouldn’t have to worry about them). However, as soon as we were ready (foregoing a shower) we headed out in search of an air conditioned lunch. We spent the next couple of hours at a comfortable local bakery, killing time until we could return to our hotel and start cooling down the room.

An ocean-themed mural in Quepos, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Around dinner time we went for a walk along the waterfront in Quepos. Near the town’s ‘letras’ sign we saw the two other touring cyclists that had passed us the previous evening. One of them was busy speaking with another lady, but we were able to introduce ourselves to the other. His name was Edgar, and he told us that he and his companion (Miguel) were both from Mexico. They were only the second touring cyclists we had encountered from Latin America. Edgar’s English was really good, and we found out that it was because he had been an English teacher in Mexico City. He was an accomplished bicycle tourer, having cycled across Mexico several times, and recently biked from from Mexico City to San Francisco and back. Now he and Miguel were heading south, hoping to eventually reach Ushuaia, Argentina - just like us! There was a good chance we’d run into them again down the road. We wished them well, and continued our search for dinner.

Visiting with Edgar, one of the two long-distance cyclists from Mexico who had just rolled into town. Quepos, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

By the time we left the restaurant the sun was setting over the darkening ocean. Along the waterfront promenade we stopped to admire some bejeweled statues heralding the approach of Carnaval (which was only four days away).

A glowing sunset over the marina. Malecón, Quepos, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We began the next day by cycling through more oil palm plantations. For three more hours we passed row after row of the African oil palms.

Sunrise over the oil palms lining the PanAmerican Highway. Naranjo River Bridge, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A sign urging motorists to watch for the guys with the ox carts. It says, “I also want to arrive home. Crossing for agricultural workers.” Llorona, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

About an hour into the ride we passed a palm oil processing factory that was already pumping out smoke at 6:30am. There were big, black tanks for holding the processed oil. A row of large containers were piled high with the recently-harvested bunches of palm fruits. A little further down the road we passed some tiny cabins that probably served as company housing for the plantation and factory workers.

Smoke rose from a chimney early in the morning at a palm oil processing factory. Llorona, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Truck-sized containers were overflowing with the very large bunches of palm oil fruits, waiting to be processed. Llorona, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

These little cabins were probably company housing for the plantation and factory workers. The presence of multiple satellite dishes on the roof made us wonder how many people lived in those small spaces. Llorona, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We were impressed by the display of this bare-throated tiger heron, near the edge of one of the palm plantations. Marítima, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

By the time we passed these horses, around 8:15am, the day was already heating up. We suspect they had waded into the pool of water to cool off. Hatillo, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We stopped for our mid-morning break at a convenience store near the town of Guápil. The store was air conditioned, but unfortunately they didn’t have anywhere formal inside to sit down. It was too hot to stand around outside. So after we purchased some drinks, we sat down on a foot stool (for reaching the high shelves) that had been left in one of the aisles of the store. The manager could see us, and gave us a friendly nod. We got the feeling he was sympathetic to our desire to remain inside. The rest in the cool air was fabulous. Afterwards, we both had a lot more stamina to finish the ride.

Around 9am we cycled across the Barú River. From there the oil palms disappeared and the highway hugged the coast, with several impressive views of the sea.

The mouth of the Barú River as seen from a bridge. It looked like the tide was out, exposing large sand bars. Dominical, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

View of the Pacific Ocean from the top of a small ridge. Savegre de Aguirre, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

This tour company had a pretty distinctive headquarters. Uvita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

The Forests of Uvita

We ended up staying three nights in Uvita (pop. 5,000), in two different lodges. The first one was fun because the owner’s son, Victor, was an avid cyclist. In 2017 he cycled from Ushuaia, Argentina to Peru, but had to end his trip there. In 2020 he had started a trip from Berlin, Germany heading eastward across Asia. But he only made it as far as Montenegro (Eastern Europe) before having to return home because of the Covid-19 pandemic. It just goes to show that making it to your destination on a long-distance bike trip is never assured. We enjoyed talking with him about his travels (getting a few tips for South America), and showing him our bikes.

Uvita is probably most famous for being near some of Costa Rica’s more popular beaches. But we opted to remain up in the village, exploring the forested back roads. On the first morning we took a walk in a large patch of forest right behind the lodge. The forest was tall and dense, making it hard to see many birds. But we did spend some time with a couple of friendly, local goats. They seemed to enjoy following us for much of the morning.

A gravel road led back into the thick forest behind our lodge. Uvita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

We thought this shingles plant (that’s its name) was pretty cool. Its leaves lay flat against the bark of the tree. Uvita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Back at the lodge, we took another shot at repairing PedalingGuy’s back tire, which had lost air again. This was the 12th patch for this tire. Almost all of the holes had appeared within the past month as the outer layer of the tire (which is more resistant to punctures) had worn away. After shoving in another plug, we crossed our fingers and hoped that would do the trick.

Based on our record keeping, we had patched PedalingGuy’s back tire in 12 different places. Uvita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Unfortunately, our room at the lodge was in the open, exposed to the sun, with large, single-pane windows and poor insulation. On the day we had arrived, the air conditioning unit struggled to cool the entire space, and we were too warm for most of the afternoon.

When the proprietor told us that there weren’t any other rooms available, we decided to move to another lodge, just down the road. Our room wasn’t ready yet when we arrived, so we ended up waiting for two hours in the shade of a big, thatched palapa. It was pretty warm, even in the shade. But the lounge area had a pleasant decor, and we enjoyed watching a couple of golden-hooded tanagers make frequent visits to one of the potted plants that hung from the eaves.

This open-air lounge under a big thatched roof was an enjoyable place to hang out for a couple of hours. Uvita, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Unfortunately, the evening before our departure we discovered that PedalingGuy’s back tire had gone soft again (a theme was definitely emerging). After pumping it up, we discovered two more holes! It took three Dynaplugs to get the tire to hold air. This was seriously disconcerting, not just because the tire seemed to be on its very last legs. Dynaplugs are great, but they’re not cheap. We were getting to the point where we would be spending half the cost of a new tire on Dynaplugs. Once again, we crossed our fingers and hoped for the best.

Dinosaurs and Mysterious Ancient Spheres

Thank goodness, the tire had held air over night. We were out the door in the dark before dawn.

The ride from Uvita to Palmar Norte ended up being pretty easy. We had a wide, comfortable margin that made for stress-free cycling. Although the terrain was getting hillier, it was still far from challenging. We took a half hour break at a gas station that had a big collection of dinosaur statues. Two of them, a tyrannosaur and a triceratops, were huge. About a dozen smaller statues included some other dinosaurs, plus more modern species like a tapir and an anteater.

The giant tyrannosaur statue at Plaza Ventana, near Ojochal, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

While we rested on a bench in a little park near the dinosaurs, we were entertained by a flock of six yellow-throated toucans. They were flying among the leafless branches of several enormous ceiba trees. It was fun to see so many of them together.

Not far down the road we entered an area called Toucan Valley - that seemed appropriate. Balsar Abajo, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

This old car, with a tree growing up through the engine compartment, didn’t seem like it would send the right message as an advertisement for a car repair workshop. Coronado, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

A colorful gate at the entrance to a luxury eco-resort. Balsar Abajo, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

After about three hours, we saw a cyclist coming towards us, heading in the opposite direction. Doni (from Spain) had started his ride in Ushuaia, Argentina, two years ago. As we were chatting, out of the blue he asked us if we were planning to cross the Darien Gap (the dangerous, roadless area between Panama and Colombia) by motor boat. We hadn’t really made up our minds about how we would cross that gap, and told him so.

Then he explained that he had taken the motor boat, and didn’t enjoy it. He warned us that it was a very bumpy ride, and that it had been especially tough on his bike because the guys who loaded and unloaded the luggage weren’t gentle. Plus, saltwater was a persistent problem and it caused a lot of corrosion on his bike. He didn’t explicitly tell us NOT to take a boat, but he didn’t really have to. His warning made it sound like more of a hassle than it was worth. Doni’s final destination is Canada, which he will probably reach in another couple of years. He was very jovial and fun to talk with, and it was a great, roadside meeting.

Swapping travel tips with Doni (a cyclist from Spain), during a chance, roadside encounter. Near Ciudad Cortés, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

As we got close to Palmar Norte, we pulled over at a big, buffet style restaurant on the side of the road. They were clearly set up to handle large groups - probably tour buses - but we were the only ones there. We helped ourselves to a nice, big breakfast and relaxed for almost an hour and a half before finally cycling the final 10 minutes to our destination.

Enjoying brunch at Rancho Mi Tata, a large, roadside buffet. Although the place could easily have accommodated 50-100 people, we were the only ones there. Palmar Norte, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

But one more thing caught our eye as we got close to town. We spotted a very large, stone ball placed near the town’s welcome sign. It was one of the mysterious Diqui Spheres. These deceptively simple spheres were carved from volcanic rock between 1,000 and 500 years ago by the Diquis, a people who inhabited Costa Rica’s southern lowlands. The Diqui culture was wiped out during the Spanish conquest, and there is no record of why the spheres were created, or what their purpose/meaning might have been. About 300 of them have been found, ranging in size from a couple of centimeters to over 2 m (6 ft) in diameter. These days, many of the spheres are owned by the national museum, but large numbers are also used by ordinary Costa Ricans as landscape ornaments for homes and public buildings.

A particularly large Diqui Sphere. These mysterious orbs were carved by people in southern Costa Rica before the arrival of the Spanish. Palmar Norte, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

This big, green iguana lounged among the vegetation not far from our hotel. Palmar Norte, Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

Not the Greatest Road

Our final, full day of cycling in Costa Rica was not the best. When we awoke, PedalingGuy’s back tire was flat again. So we pumped it up, and the tire immediately started spewing more sealant from the same area where we had already sunk nearly 10 Dynaplugs. There were at least two new holes, which soon expanded to three. We ended up using five more plugs, but at least it seemed as though the tire would hold air for the day’s 38 mile (61 km) ride. Clearly, PedalingGuy’s back tire needed to be replaced. We had ridden more than 4000 miles without a flat, but subsequently they have become a daily occurrence. Whether we would make it to Panama City for a replacement tire was starting to be a serious concern.

Unfortunately, the nice, wide road margin that we had enjoyed the previous day disappeared completely. We had no shoulder to cycle on for the entire day. This was particularly vexing because the road was in fantastic condition - it was as if they had recently re-surfaced the road, but decided not to include a shoulder. Furthermore, the main traffic lanes were narrow and there were lots of cars and trucks. Several times trucks got uncomfortably close when they passed us. It was not a relaxing ride, and we didn’t stop to take many photos.

Most of the landscape was converted to pastures, with a few more stretches of oil palm plantations. Every so often the road would cross a wide sandy river on its way to the nearby ocean.

Dawn breaking over the Térraba River, just outside of Palmar Norte. Puntarenas Province, Costa Rica. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.

It was February 14, Valentine’s Day, and our hotel had placed a cluster of bright red West Indian jasmine flowers on the bed. After a stressful day on the road, it was a lovely touch that made us feel really welcome - and a great way to close out our amazing journey through Costa Rica. Soon, we would cross into Panama.

Apr 1 Cycling Across Costa Rica: Steamy Tropical Forests

Wind, Wind, and More Wind

Heading for the Border

A Nice, Easy Crossing into Costa Rica

An Oasis in the Jungle

Wind Delay in La Cruz

Cowboy Country

A Day in the ‘White City’

Rosquillas, Tanelas, Pipa Fría, and Coyol Wine

The Best of Days, the Worst of Days

Recovering in Mata Limón

The Crocodile Bridge

In Search of Scarlet Macaws

Tire Trouble and Toucans

Acres of Oil Palms

The Forests of Uvita

Dinosaurs and Mysterious Ancient Spheres

Not the Greatest Road

Click here for quick links to all of our other Cycling the Americas blog pages

Previous Posts:

Apr 1 Cycling Across Costa Rica: Steamy Tropical Forests

Wind, Wind, and More Wind

Heading for the Border

A Nice, Easy Crossing into Costa Rica

An Oasis in the Jungle

Wind Delay in La Cruz

Cowboy Country

A Day in the ‘White City’

Rosquillas, Tanelas, Pipa Fría, and Coyol Wine

The Best of Days, the Worst of Days

Recovering in Mata Limón

The Crocodile Bridge

In Search of Scarlet Macaws

Tire Trouble and Toucans

Acres of Oil Palms

The Forests of Uvita

Dinosaurs and Mysterious Ancient Spheres

Not the Greatest Road

Click here for quick links to all of our other Cycling the Americas blog pages

Apr 23 Cycling Across Panama: The Road to the Panama Canal

Mar 11 Cycling Honduras and Nicaragua: The Flat Pacific Lowlands

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