Kiteboarding salinas cruz

3 February.

Salinas Cruz lies on the Pacific side, close to Nicaragua. We planned to spend a few days here kiting, but it was so unpleasant, due to our inability to escape from the wind, that we only stayed one night. Tim went out for a session and & reported the wind was as messy as the water—more survival than fun kiting. Gusts were strong enough to pull him off the board, then big holes of no wind. The beach wasn’t anything special, and opening the windows meant letting in buckets of dusty sand. One great bonus, we did see a turtle come ashore, dig a nest, change her mind, and return to the sea.

tamarindo

Tamarindo wasn’t much better. We arrived late after leaving late, just in time to watch the sunset, (lbeit with a thousand others). Early the next morning, 6am, I was chatting with Juan Diego, a local who moved from Argentina 16 years ago for the surf. He reminisced about Tamarindo’s days as a sleepy fishing village and shared stories of the rapid growth challenges—similar to those in our resort hometown in Canada. Married to a German gal & have two Costa Rican-born kids who share his passion for surf. Juan Diego invited us to tour his surfboard factory on our way out of town. His staff walked us through the process of making boards.

The afternoon turned into a bit of a navigational disaster. From Tamarindo we aimed to head inland & climb to higher ground, but with the words of the factory staff echoing: “You really should visit Giones, Nicoya, and Sámara.” They were close—if driving down the coast, but we were heading inland. At the last intersection, we impulsively swung south to the coast. On the map, it didn’t look far, but road washouts from heavy rains doubled our travel time. When we eventually reached these spots, the surf was pumping and the waves were big. Too big for the kids. Wild camping options were non-existent. Paid camping meant $25–30 for someone’s scruffy backyard—not quite our standard. The sun was starting to sink low, so back we drove, back close to our turn off point, eventually finding a place to camp on the malecón of a small beach town—hot, humid, and buggy. So it was a long hot day of driving in the & not accomplishing much at all. Everyone was tired & grumpy…

Monteverde

February 7th. Up & turning wheels early, we set our sights on the hills of Monteverde. All morning we climbed the steep and narrow farm roads, winding up to a recommend campground we found on iOverlander. La Colina, is a farm with a one-spot campground aptly named “Best View.” and that’s exactly what it was. Yesterday’s woes faded as we soaked in the sweeping 180-degree view of jungle-covered hills over an ice cold beer. Perfect climate and the price was good too at $20 per night. We had our own toilet, shower, and a sink for laundry and dishes. Parrots and other beautiful birds flitted around—no roosters or barking dogs. What more could we ask for? Our planned one night turned into three. Each morning, the parrots woke us at 5:30 a.m. Slipping out with our tea & coffee to watch the birds and enjoy the cool morning stillness. Time passed quickly—laundry done, the truck emptied of sand, chores finished, and schoolwork tackled.

The kids slept in the hammocks, and on the last night, I joined Jaxon sleeping out. I didn’t actually get much sleep but loved the experience.

The farm’s owners, Fernando and Vera, recently retired, handing over operations to Jordie, their new manager who moved here from Spain. Genuine and kind people, they happily shared knowledge about local plants and the region’s history and the history of gold mining, giving the kids an educational tour including finding quartz crystals and 200yr old mining techniques.

sugar cane juice

Charley & Jaxon extracted & drank sugarcane juice—feeding heavy stalks through a hand-cranked juicer a couple of times before sipping the green rocket fuel. Jordie showed them three types of beehives. One tiny species produces just one liter of honey per year—so rich it’s used medicinally for eyes and sold at a high price. Guitar wasps had built an evolving hive by the office, preferring to keep people at a distance. All these bees and wasps pollinate flowers that feed hummingbirds—nature’s cycle in full display. Before we knew it, three full days had passed.

From Monteverde, we climbed higher into the Cloud Forest.. Following tight, rural back country lanes to 100% Aventura, a zip line park the kids had on their ‘to-do’ list. Eleven lines crisscross the valley below. Our 2 p.m. tour had 25 participants. After a quick safety briefing, we were harnessed up and launched. The kids—adrenaline junkies—grinningg ear to ear, unphased by the 1-km Superman-style zip or the deathly 4-second free fall of the Tarzan Swing (I skipped that one!).

The kind staff let us camp overnight, leaving the Wi-Fi on and bathrooms unlocked. By 4:30 p.m., all staff had gone home, leaving the park to us until morning. The wind blew hard all night, roaring across the canopy. I wondered how the birds managed to hang on without getting blown away!

Tourism seems to be Costa Rica’s main revenue source. Everywhere you look, there are farm walks, waterfall hikes, wildlife tours, night tours, restaurants, cafes, bakeries, accommodations, and zip lines. The country is truly beautiful, but I sometimes feel like a fish swimming in long-line fishing waters and have to look past all the road side advertising.

Lake Arenal

Descending on to Lake Arenal, Costa Rica’s largest lake. Surrounded by foreign owned, rolling farmland hills and dense jungle, with the iconic Arenal Volcano watching over it. Many expats have settled here, drawn by the simple life and agreeable climate. Expanded in 1979 for a hydroelectric project, it’s now a prime destination for wind sports. From November to April, steady winds attract kiters, wingers, and windsurfers.

Access to Kite Beach is via a long, muddy, jungle-lined road leading to a grassy bench perfect for rigging. Unfortunately, we hit a hidden tree branch on the way in, cracking a large hole in the ski box on the roof. Luckily, Tim had grabbed a roll of strong tape from Camping World—‘just in case.’ that saved the day.

We spent two nights free camping by the shore, sharing the spot with friendly expats who frequent the lake daily. The kids squeezed in some schoolwork between swimming breaks. Tim got out on the water both days. My session was short, wild, and sweet. I rode Charley’s twin tip board—not having ridden a twin tip in nearly 10 yrs and shorter than I was used to, was a challenge.   When launching I could see thick dark clouds brewing in my direction.  Within 15 mins, they were across the lake,  a thick rain squall unloaded on me, pounding my face, the kite, wind-whipped waves had water dancing on the surface. It was surreal.  I dashed for the shore, just making it in as the squall passed and the wind dropped completely—relieved to have avoided what would have been a long swim back. Unfortunately we didn’t snap any photos of the lake or kiting.

Another unforgettable chapter added to the journey.