Another year-later honeymoon post. It’s like the trip that just keeps on giving.
This will be the last adventure recap, I think I’ll do one big overview post of the places we stayed, travel tips, reco’s, etc.
Our last excursion was a bike tour around Arenal Lake. The description said we’d “ride bicycles on the roads around the lake and the National Park.”
Sounds pretty chill, right? I was looking forward to a relaxing outing after 5 days of go-go-GO crazy adventures, and taking in the local scenery on a known mode of transportation (read, no harnesses required).
The shuttle picked us up and our super nice (bilingual, btw) tour guide asked us if we’d ridden bikes before.
I mean, who hasn’t ridden a bike, right? And if you haven’t, or can’t, or don’t like to, why would you sign up for a BIKING excursion?
(Apparently the family that showed up before us, is who. Seriously they’d never been on a bike before. That was a short-lived tour.)
We watched them put together these mountain bike / road bike hybrid things, and I should have known we were in for more than just an easy stroll around the lake. The little teeny ass-massacre seat coupled with tread tires and shocks?? It’s like sporting equipment from a horror film.
I’m sure you can see where this is going.
We take off, immediately up an un-paved, rocky hill. Brian drops his chain and I lose all forward momentum and have to walk the rest of the way.
Not a great start.
But damnit, it was the second-to-last day of our honeymoon, and we were going to enjoy ourselves! This is fun! We are so adventurous!!
I got the teensiest bit comfortable just in time for a big downhill that came out of nowhere – suddenly we were flying down this bumpy, tire-tracked, giant-boulders-in-the-middle-of-the-path hill and OMG I’M GOING TO DIE.
White knuckles and insta-arthritis.
We made it down – not without a few scares (of falling or crapping my pants) – and Brian looked back at me with a big grin as if to say,
“See! It’s not so bad!”
By the time I loosened my death grip – no seriously my forearms were cramping I was squeezing so hard – it was time for YAY ANOTHER FREAKING HILL!
This one wasn’t so pretty. In amateur mountain biker status I reflexively squeezed the brakes when my front tire hit a big rock and ramped into a tire rut, causing my back end to fly sideways and eventually toss me onto the gravel/dirt/boulder path.
Brian and the tour guide (we were the only three riding) were way ahead and didn’t hear me go down. I’m not sure what was more humiliating – yelling at them to come back for me, or walking my stupid bike down the stupid hill because it was too steep (for me) to re-mount and ride down.
The rest of the ride was better. We slowed down and our guide told us all sorts of cool things about the land, which I didn’t remember any of because I was too busy wallowing in my own un-athletic shame and wondering what kind of blood-borne disease I’d contracted.
We did get to see some howler monkeys and got a good photo op in front of Arenal, which saved some points for the trip.
If only it weren’t laced with the “remember when you wiped out??!” story op as well…