We were told in our orientation that lunch on our arrival day would be served approximately thirty minutes after our arrival with dinner to follow in the evening at 7. During our lunch we were asked about choices of starter, main and dessert. I selected a Delmonico steak prepared medium. As I mentioned previously, our guides who had led us faithfully and safely to our destination were now working in the kitchen and at our tables. The food was delicious, nourishing, fresh, colorful and extremely appetizing to all of us and it did have a gourmet flair, no kidding. Coffee and tea were available to us in the common area at all times during our stay. We used water from the area which they assured us was tested monthly and found to be free of contaminants and microbes and perfectly potable. When I questioned whether or not it originated from springs, I was told that it was pure, mountain water. I then further questioned whether or not the indigenous folks had cattle or animals above the source and was told that they just did not frequent that area. So, we drank the water and two days after my intestines and stomach are neither back-talking nor rumbling with complaints. I suspect like one of Don's and Nance's landlords said, "we've been drinking it all these years and have never gotten sick" might also apply to the lodge on Pacuare river.
John and I hopped tables, first sitting with the Israelis then with some of the other guests who had not come in our original covey of humanity. Then, on the last day, we had opportunity to visit with some folks from Washington state and also some others from Montana. It was delightful to exchange stories and experiences with all of these folks. I know that we gained immensely and I trust that the others acquired something in return.
After supper we went upstairs which was illuminated by candles throughout the large expanse. There were some (mostly our age, more or less) who were attempting to ready by candle light but found the light inadequate. Those folks employed their flashlights which were supplied to all of us in order to find our way to and from the common area during the dark hours of the night. Both before and after dinner some of the group sat in a semi-circle on bar stools facing two of our multi-tasking guides as they went about tending the bar. It seemed to be a happy exchange between and among the participants and the guides seemed both honestly and happily engaged.
We asked one of the guides named Max how long he had worked for Pacuare and he told us that he had been in their employ for fourteen years. Max was one of the guides who knew all of our names and used them without faltering. He was confident and seemed to sense our needs. When we heard of his extended tenure, I asked if he were one of the oldest in terms of service there. He told us that there were others with more time. He added that his father had also worked for the lodge and had very enjoyed his tenure. Pecuare Lodge has existed and done these types of eco-tours for twenty-four years.
Before long the couples began to dwindle and, seeing absolutely no need to outlast all of the group, we took our leave and headed for our bungalow. The rains had subsided by now even though they had continued after the afternoon shower a time or two. But, when we opened all of our curtains for the night entrance of cool night air, we noticed a flashing of light. It was that of lightning bugs sparking here and there. The beds were clothed in both a blanket and bedspread aside from the sheets, all of which were discarded at least at the beginning of the night. During the night I managed to slip below the sheet and then the light blanket. The dampness of our surroundings had created a less than dry condition for our bed linens. It reminded me of what we might experience in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas and of southern Alabama when, as kids, we had neither air conditioning nor fans to provide dryness or comfort within our dwellings. But soon we forgot even of this slight discomfort and were sleeping.
Though John did not recall it, I began to hear the rumble of thunder and the flashes of lightning. Then, the rains began in earnest. What a treat and a natural sedative sure to please coupled with the comforting sound of the roar of rain on the overhead covering. Soon it was dripping down all four sides. I cannot tell you how long the showers lasted because they, like the artificial elixirs that so many folks with insomnia take, removed me from consciousness quickly and soundly.
We awakened and greeted the dawn with joy and gladness. John hit the shower and I passed since I had been ducked, splashed and sprinkled in the raft. What's more, I had been completely submerged in the "pure, mountain waters" coming down and emptying in the wee pond just below the water flow on our way into the lodge. When John was finished, we walked to the commons and, while waiting for breakfast, had coffee and tea. The breakfast buffet was quickly ready and my plate was filled with fresh fruit, french toast and scrambled eggs. I had orange juice and Lady Grey tea to finish out my morning's breaking of fast. Our morning repast time was at 8 and our scheduled departure was at 10.
The rains continued throughout the morning until much of the ground was soaked and some of the walkways were covered with the runoff. All of us noticed that the river's hue had changed. It had been altered with the advent of the rains from what appeared to us a greenish blue to a reddish brown. And, the places where the boulders once had been apparent were now either gone completely or just a fraction of their original size. And, the speed of the current had increased visibly. Our rafts were still securely moored and tied with long ropes to trees some twenty yards up from the river's edge.
One by one the couples meandered from their bungalows or suites to the central muster point with their packed bags. Four of our group opted to remain a bit longer, having planned activities and another night or two at the lodge. But our two new-found friends from Olympia, Washington were going to join us on our way out. The guides were scurrying with their last-minute duties and helping us stuff the water-resistant (not proof as we later found) bags full of our items that we wanted protected from the river's water as well as the pounding rains that had continued steadily from before breakfast. Little by little, all of our belongings were stowed and carried down on a hand truck to the provisions raft. We donned our lift jackets and helmets and headed, gave our thanks to the help and said our good-byes to those remaining and walked the fifty yards in the heavy rains to the river's edge. This morning we had some additional guides who would be accompanying us in kayaks. Additionally, there were two kayakers who would be following our processing yet stopping from time to time at some of our difficult spots in order to record the whole episode or a portion thereof on memory cards. But, the occupants of the other two kayaks were there for our safety. It seems that just the day before an entire raft had flipped and all of the occupants were thrown into the drink. The guides in the kayaks explained to us the exact procedure for retrieval should we suffer such a fate. This was sounding more interesting by the minute! We had no such flotilla on our in-bound segment. As we began to board our rafts, four were in the sister raft and they were the Israelis and the eco-production duo and in our raft were the couple from Washington and John and me. We had the same guides as our inbound leg and ours was Randall. One note worthy of attention here...somebody, I cannot recall from whom the question came, asked me if I thought it was safe wearing my glasses. Do you suppose this was an omen of things to come?
Randall explained to us that on the day before the waters had been exceptionally low and were flowing considerably slower but today it was a different story completely. He explained to us that we would be passing rapids that would be considered and classified as Cat. III, IV and, quite possibly even V. As we started out, we did some practices with the heave ho, etc. and I could not feel any problems in my arms or shoulders. We let the front two from Washington set the cadence and we followed suit. It was obvious to us after the first crossing of the rapids that we in the middle of the raft were in preferential positions. Though we got a complete spray of the waters nearly every time, those in the front were showered with a blast of the angry, brown liquid without fail. But, after the first one, we at least knew what to expect. Somehow or another, I had glanced back to the stern and I could hardly believe what I saw...if I was not complete mistaken, I viewed Randall making the sign of the cross! The raft leaped high into the air, reacting to the force of those rapids and, those of us who had been catapulted, tried in vain to paddle the water but ended up taking a swing into the air instead. Never mind for we quickly were plunked down onto the surface of the waters again. We were given the command "get down" several times during the course of the outbound segment at which times we hit the deck and held onto our paddle as well as the ropes running around the outside surface of the raft. We did manage each time, one new set or rapids seemingly trying to outdo the one we had just successfully passed. And yes, we high-fived our paddles with each passing. The kayaks continued to crisscross our paths and were gliding like eels around about us. Their presence was very reassuring. We noticed also the two kayaks and their occupants pointing their cameras in our directions, especially when we were in the process of passing a rapids or just completing one.
Our actual departure time from the lodge was more like 10:30 a.m. When we had traveled about one-half of our way to our final destination, we pulled into the side of the river. At this point, the river had broadened and there were brown sand patches onto which we pulled our rafts. Bear in mind that the rains continued relentlessly throughout our entire exit journey. Immediately upon reaching shore, one part of the eco-production tour ran for the side of the river, just above the flow, squatted and created a flow all of her own. She did not even have the protection of a fig leaf. But, when one is desperate, one takes matters into one's own hand. Others of us were a bit more modest and found a bush or shrub to shield our indiscretions. This was to be our lunch break even though we had been fed a substantial breakfast at the lodge. We took a steep path up the bank and found a palapa (grass covered shack, open on all sides). From the provisions raft the guides carried up the makings for what was soon to be stowed in our bellies. We had pasta, pulled chicken, bread and a wonderful salad. For dessert we had a large selection of freshly cut fruit such as watermelon, cantaloupe, papaya and pineapple together with some coconut candy with iced tea. Not surprisingly, the guides again took the challenge and acted as chief cooks and bottle washers. The small enclosure was the property of indigenous tribe members with whom the Pacuare Lodge owner and operator had made a prior agreement for its use. There are monetary rewards for the owners of the property as well as all of the food stuffs that were uneaten. At the site were two resident pups who wandered from one person to another begging for morsels of food. They quickly snapped up each offering, sometimes before they reached the ground. Just above the palapa was another smaller enclosure also open at all sides with a table suitable for eating. The roof was thatched and did not provide water-tight seals so the top of the table was somewhat moist. But, who cares? The guides cleaned up all of our mess and repacked the plates, glasses and silverware. The left-overs remained and would be collected and consumed in the afternoon when we would already be long on our way.
The guides announced that it was time to pull the pin so we climbed down the fifty steps to the river once again. But, this time the river had risen noticeably and, where we had once stepped on semi-dry sand, there was not water.
We continued on for another hour or so and finally reached our point of exit from the river. The river was flowing about twenty-five feet below the wee village where we terminated our rafting trip. Up with our paddles, life jackets, my glasses and helmets to the top and into a warehouse where we deposited our equipment and received a dry, fluffy towel. It felt wonderful to sop some of the moisture off our out bodies. Then we collected our bags (some of the contents of some of the bags were not fully dry). Mine was just fine...no leaks whatsoever. Then across the street to showers, changing rooms and another mini-buffet set up for us. Also here we noticed that the two kayak photographers had laptops and were displaying the images from our trip. There were about one-hundred fifty photos of each raft and they looked quite impressive. When I found the cost, I was disinterested in acquiring a copy. However, our friends from Washington did purchase a copy and have told us they would attempt to make a copy of their images and make it available to us. We will share their initial expense of USD40.
Then, in the midst of a downpour, we tucked our wet things into large plastic bags and stowed them and us on a tourism van headed for San Jose and our hotel. The ride back to the city was done in far less time than our transport out and it seemed to us that the roads had improved. It is highly possible that we took different routes coming and returning. We made it back to the capital and to our hotel by around five in the afternoon. The past two days were a true pleasure and tons of fun. But, it was also a pleasure to reach our hotel. We hung the wet items in our air-conditioned room and hoped that they would dry in time for us to pack up the next day for our flight to Panama.
John and I were both fatigued and had no intention of doing anything strenuous that evening. We had spied a McDonald's just one block distant from the hotel so walked over and fed our faces and returned. Bed was my only friend at that point and I had absolutely no argument regarding bedtime. I knew nothing of the night. Sleep, what a wonderful gift. Tomorrow we will be taking a taxi to the San Jose airport for our flight to David, Panama.
(I will be including images within this narrative at a later date.)
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