Eight days ago we hopped in the back of blue 1960’s Toyota FJ cruiser flatbed truck. All 17 of our bags, all 4 of our boxes, and 5 of our persons were crammed in the bed with rain covers on everything. Our entire lives for the past three months were squished around us.
For the next two hours we bumped, jumped, and sang as we climbed the mountain from Potrero Grande to Tres Colinas. The last hour was up a steep road made of red clay with cutout gullies from rain up in the mountains. We could feel our driver William shift into the low range gearbox to trudge up the slope. As we climbed the trees and air began to remind me of east coast forests where conifers intersperse the low hardwoods and flowers dot the roadside. Night had fallen during the last push uphill, and the thin beams of headlights were barely cutting through the fog. The rivets in the road were deeper and wetter than they had been lower and inevitably, from the weight and water, we got the wheels spinning trying to climb back onto hard ground. But, because of skill, engineering, and luck we made it over the hump and climbed the last hill into town.
We arrived, settled into some beautiful cozy cabins, had dinner, and passed out in the misty air of the mountain village. For the next three days, we took our last two finals, and finished our final paper. Working on academics all day long was made better by the views across the valley and watching the clouds roll through the mountains. It was a perfect place to prove what we learned from our time here.
On the fourth day there, we woke up at 3:30 for breakfast at 4:00 to begin our day at 5:00. For the next five days we would be hiking in La Amistad Parque Internacional to summit Costa Rica’s second tallest mountain, Cerro Kamuk.
We began sandwiched in-between layers of gray clouds while sunlight crept through the cracks making the orange soil, and greenery around us more vibrant. Slowly, we marched straight up the hill leading out of Tres Colinas into the park. Up and up we climbed until we reached our first cerro, Cerro Platano. There at 8,000 feet of elevation we were immersed in the cloud forest where moss had been poured like hot fondue over all the trees and something green clings to every surface.
We were led on by our resident guide, Hugo (Carucho). He is a stout middle aged man, with short quick legs, thick hands, a bald head, and kind eyes. This was his 59th trip up to the summit of Cerro Kamuk, and it would be his last. He retired after this trip to start a restaurant where the people who go to Tres Colinas can relax, eat, and enjoy his homemade blackberry wine.
For another few hours, we followed him up and down along the ridgeline until our first camp 14 kilometers from our starting point. Waiting for us there was a mountain stream nestled between trees, a tarp to sleep under, and some stumps for seats. We ate our first of 4 peanut butter and jelly sandwich lunches, made hot water, relaxed, and got to know Hugo. He is a kind, welcoming, prankster with puzzles, jokes and magic tricks hidden up his sleeves. We fell asleep that night wrapped in sleeping bags, bellies full with warm soup, and souls overflowing.
The next day was a short 9 km jaunt through the cloud forest to camp number two. We climbed up and down, poking our heads out into the paramo and dipping back down into cloud forest. From the hilltops and over the scrubby bushes of the paramo we could see the peak of Cerro Kamuk. It was a beautifully clear day were we were. Clouds were in the valleys, and sinews of condensation drifted above framing Kamuk and the ridgeline we would hike the next day called el cerrucho (the saw).
We had a luxurious time sleeping in until 5:00 am the next morning. Day three was going to be one of the harder days of the hike even though it was one of the shortest (8 km). We set off as light as we could by dropping some supplies at camp 2 were we would return the next day. Within an hour, we had left the cloud forest and were in the paramo on “the saw.” Paramo is like the Costa Rican version of an alpine meadow. Scrubby bushes, grasses, and short palm like plants cover the soft ground. Looking out, it was a mosaic of subtle greens, grays, and reds all blending and rolling along the mountain. Everyone erupted with joy as we came up onto the ridge and were surrounded by this beautiful new landscape and 360 views of the valleys, the summit, and the ridge ahead.
I shot off. I couldn’t contain myself. I blitzed downhill and jumped up the steep sides of the next one, only stopping to breathe, spin around, be amazed, and take pictures. I felt like Legolas or Aragorn running through Middle Earth. I felt tiny and free. I felt like I could go on forever. However, my exuberance lead to some problems. I forgot to put on sunscreen. Up at 10,000 feet, where we were, the sun is brutal. By the end of the day, I looked like a rasberry. Sun isn’t the only issue at elevation. The lack of oxygen in the air makes your lungs work extra hard. After some hours of climbing the steep hills and crashing down the other side everyone was running low on energy and willpower was waning. Our fearless guide noticed. Our breaks were getting longer and our pace was slowing. So, he pushed on ahead and bounded up the last hill. There he dropped his pack and came back to help and encourage those that needed it most.
After the last harrowing climb we were practically at camp. Two more kilometers through the paramo up a gradual hill we reached camp three. At above 10,000 feet, we could see everything. At sunset, walked up a small hill where on one side we could see the last climb to the peak and on the other we could look out over the sunset and the clouds. As the sun dropped the mountain was lit up orange and the clouds drifted on forever below us. It was a never ending sea of soft white peaks and valleys, a blanket over the rest of the world.
Half way up the last climb I saw the hills below me swept by the morning. I was racing the day and kicked it up a notch climbing harder and faster. I scrambled over the last few rocks and was slapped by the first rays of sunshine. I broke into a run for the last 50 meters, reached the sign, fell to my knees and screamed with joy at the lighting of the world. There at 11,680 feet I met the sun and watched it sweep over the hills thousands of feet below me. Mountains of clouds transitioned into mountain ridges and the sun spilled through every crack flooding the valley in gold. The world dropped away around me and I was alone on top of the world for a second. Soon after, one by one, the rest of our team rounded the last bend and stood on the peak. After a 1,000 foot climb, a 3:30am wake up, a frigid night, 3 days of hard hiking, and a 3-month semester, everything was worth it, to have that moment 3548 meters above the sea.
We took our time up there, we cried, we ate treats, we took pictures, and we were grateful. We thanked each other, our instructors, our guide, and Costa Rica for giving us this incredible experience. It is hard not to be grateful when you get to experience one of the most beautiful places on this earth. Reluctantly, we walked back down off the peak to our camp and got ready to hike back to camp two. “The saw” was much more gentle going the other way. The trend was downhill and we were inspired by our morning adventure. Sleep washed over us and before the sun even set most of us were wrapped in our sleeping bags and dreaming of the sunrise.
The next day we woke up early for a long hike back to Tres Colinas. What we did in two days on the way up we were going to do in one 8-hour push. We plodded along stopping every hour for a short rest and some snacks. Our lunch was our last PB and J wraps at 10:00 am at our first camp less than half way there. The trail ahead was all downhill and all we had to do was roll down it into town. We rolled along letting gravity take our feet for the next 16 kilometers. We skipped into Tres Colinas after 26 kilometers with aching knees and happy hearts.
Now we are in the car on the return journey to San Jose. We say goodbye tomorrow to each other and this incredible country tomorrow and disperse back to the USA. I am truly grateful for the past three months in one of the most biologically diverse places on earth with some of the most wonderfully diverse people on earth.
