I walked across a continent. I WALKED across a continent. I walked across a CONTINENT. It’s surreal to even type it: 174 miles in 13 days, from the Caribbean Sea to the Pacific Ocean.
The short version:
Slept in tent, cabins, lodges, and homes. Saw toucans, sloths, monkey and cutter ants. Ate rice and beans, and rice and beans, and almond butter and fruit. Had the best guide, driver, and hiking companions ever.
The long version:
About a year ago, my dear friend sent an email to a group of her friends about a hiking opportunity she had discovered. The Mar a Mar Association created a hiking trail from coast to coast to bring tourism dollars into the interior of the country. Did any of us want to give it a shot? Initial thought, “HECK YES!” Second thought, “I CANNOT BE GONE FOR 16 DAYS!” However, where there’s a will, there’s a way, and on March 5, 2022, we set off!
Our trek started in San Jose, and we drove to the coast (about 3 hours) for a nice, easy 4-mile hike to the Pacuare Reserve. (This was after we loaded 8 of us AND all our luggage, along with our guide, into a motorized rowboat. At this point, I second-guessed what I had signed up for . . . and I was simultaneously grateful for my waterproof duffel bag!) This doubt was magnified at about 3 a.m. when I met a roach on the toilet seat of our overnight accommodations. (Slightly “rustic”…)
Day two took us about 6 hours—we walked through a banana plantation, drank fresh coconut juice from a local farmer, and explored a pineapple plantation. Our overnight accommodations had the most magical outdoor showers, and we slept in tents on platforms. I spent a fair amount of the evening laying in a hammock watching a monkey tree surf. The 14.65 miles we tackled were hot (full sun) but relatively flat.
Day three was “only” 10.9 miles, which felt like a cinch after the day before. We had some shade, saw a poisonous frog, and scaled a tree that had fallen across our trail. We made it to the edge of the NaiRi AwaRi indigenous lands and stayed overnight in Las Brisas School, where the teacher was our cook and host. We squeezed in the coldest showers of our lives, which was water flowing from a garden hose strung up within a corrugated metal structure. It didn’t matter. We were stinky and came out fresh (ish). In my infinite wisdom, I set up my tent on the home of some fire ants. My bag of dirty laundry made the perfect pillow, and I was fast asleep. What a night.
Day four was BRUTAL. We hiked for 8.5 hours and gained 2700 feet of elevation—almost entirely in the jungle. We were up and on the trail by 5:30 a.m. YIKES! Every step was calculated due to roots and rocks, and you had to simply remember to look up to avoid a crick in your neck! We crossed several rivers this day, including one via cable car. A cold beer was awaiting us at the end of the hike, which was an “up up” incline. (Not to be confused with an “up up up,” which basically was warning you of a near-death incline.)
We were moving on day five, crossing 9.5 miles in under 6 hours! The highlight of this day was buying “ice cream” from a couple in their home in a town we went through. It was cold and delicious, and we squeezed it through the cut corner of a plastic sandwich bag. YUM! With a little anxiety, we ended the day with host families, and it ended up being wonderful. We had an entire dinner conversation via Google translate (so thankful for Wi-Fi) and laughed together at the absurdity of it. Our meal overflowed our plates! We had great sleep and then awoke to see a REAL toucan being hand-fed from their front porch. INCREDIBLE!
Day six was a BEAST—18 miles and 2000 feet of elevation gain. In total, it took us just under 9 hours. We walked through endless sugar cane plantations and drank watermelon juice with our lunch. YUM! When we made it to Rio Del Valle for the night, our dinner was the first that didn’t involve rice and beans—pasta alfredo. YUM AGAIN!
Halfway—day seven! This was our largest day of elevation gain: 3853 feet. Our guide described the day as “3 ups, across a creek, and then one BIG up.” We had sack lunches along the side of the road, and each had a note from our previous night host who packed them: “You can do it!” Seeing the halfway marker was a huge mental boost!
Day eight was so memorable because we met our newest trail companion, Clark. He was a stray dog who found us just as we set out and hiked all 16.35 miles with us that day. Our 9 hours and 20 minutes of hiking took us through a nature reserve that was super muddy, which added an extra element of caution. Then came the rain. (Incredible that it took us 8 days to have to unload rain gear, but we were ready!) This day seemed to be never-ending, but once it did, we had the most magical stay: Verdesana Forest Lodge . . . which was situated at about 5000 ft of elevation. They had a magical dining room with a roaring fire that felt so good on our wet, exhausted bodies. We also had real wine in real wine glasses.
It took us until day nine to realize we had a translation issue. Our beloved guide, Sergio, kept telling us that the day would be “flat”… and then we would come across an incline. WHAT ON EARTH? We then realized that by “flat” he meant “smooth” or “not rocky.” HA! Joke was on us! This day was SO VERY STEEP. At several times, mid-hill, we’d stop to catch our breath. The elevation we started at didn’t help for our lack of oxygen. On this day we crossed the highest point on the Camino: 7670 ft. That explains it!
Day ten brought some GREAT time. We crossed almost 11 miles in under 5 hours. We had lunch at the neatest bohemian home. There were pillows on the floor, bright colors everywhere, and lots of open air! Once we arrived in town, we stopped at Rancho San Francisco for coffee ice cream. What a treat!
Day eleven—almost there! 2000 more feet of elevation gain. So much for going down! But we saw the Pacific Ocean. This was such an encouragement mentally! We had a fabulous lunch in the community center in Napoles. The day ended at what seemed like an Airbnb . . . where we had the entire house to ourselves . . . except for the bugs that decided they wanted to sleep in my bed. I itched all night.
Day twelve was down, down, down. We descended 2000 feet in 3 hours and then another 1700 before the end of our 7-hour day. Our team squeezed sugar cane at lunch, and we drank it in plastic mugs. WOW. SO sweet! We finally make it to Esquipulas Bird Paradise, where we stayed for the night, after a little education from owner Rudy. He was proud to show us his night frogs, which have beady red eyes. Slept like a log!
THE LAST DAY! I could not believe it. We woke with an extra boost of excitement. There were 13.5 miles between us and the Pacific Ocean. Our path was mostly flat, and we walked through the massive palm plantations. The outskirts of Quepos seemed busy and dirty after our mostly rural trek. Regardless, the end was in sight. We crossed the final bridge under a spray of Perrier water and celebrated every step we had taken over the previous 13 days. Unbelievable. To cap off our celebration, we stopped at EL 506 Bar, where the owner has done El Camino multiple times in both directions. He knew how we felt and happily passed us ice-cold beers.
Our 13 days of hiking took us across a variety of terrain . . . flat, gravel, incline, decline. We met so many wonderful people, saw so much wildlife, and experienced so much as a group. There really aren’t words to describe the experience in full.
So, would I do it again? Absolutely not! But not for the reason you might be thinking. Taking this journey was an absolute bucket-list experience. The people I traveled with and encountered along the way were incredible. I couldn’t duplicate our interactions and experiences, nor would I want to. I loved the training and preparation and anticipation of what the experience might entail.
On to the next big adventure: Dolomites, anyone?
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