For many days now Jocelyn has wanted a day trip to Marbella Beach.  Playa Frijolar, to be more precise, named for the gravelly beach that looks like a pile of beans in some spots.  An apt name.

I've been reluctant because I've spent a lot of time on the road recently and didn't particularly want to be in the car on a Sunday unless we were going somewhere new and thrilling, or particularly difficult to reach which involves a reasonably high chance of getting stuck.

Regardless, her feminine wiles overcame my masculine stubborn-ness and so to Marbella we went!

The key to the story is the simplicity.  We drove south for a while (40 minutes or so).  Stopped to snap some photos of my favorite windmill (which I never photograph despite tremendous being tremendously photogenic).  Then proceeded to a beautiful beach with very few other people.  We bathed.  We snacked.  We enjoyed a cold beer.  We strolled.  We read.  We harvested some driftwood.

The breeze was onshore and cooling, the water crystalline.  

We drove home mellow and sunkissed, stopping for another photo or two.

Turns out that Jocelyn was right, it was a great way to spend a Sunday.

Better-than-typical gravel road, Guanacaste	Beach, Wife, Dog. Happines	Goats!! We always yell "Goats!" when we see them, for some reason.	The roads are already dry and dusty, I predict a dry summer.

Labels: beach, Costa Rica, day trip, dog, photo, weather

"Let's run down to the beach for a few minutes".

Seems like such an innocuous phrase.   An hour later, in mud up to my knees, hopelessly mired in who-knows-how-many feet of clay I found myself thinking, "Maybe we should have chosen a different route."

Mea Culpa.  There, that's out of the way.  Nobody to blame but myself.  I drove the truck into a mud pit, we lost traction, got stuck.

If you're satisfied with my admission of guilt, stop reading now, because I'm going to offer some excuses as to why I did what I did (and some thanks to those who participated with a smile and those who ultimately saved our bacon).

Before I go further, I'd like to share this image   <------
It was taken in the almost the exact spot where we got stuck last weekend.  The difference is that this image was taken back in the *wet season*, when you expect mud (notice the water, and thus, mud).

I drove over the same spot in the *dry season*, expecting that the mud would be less of a problem.   As it turns out, instead of muddy ground, it had turned into a clay pit without a bottom.  If you want to get into pottery, this is the stuff you want.  Nothing but slippery, slimy, clay.  Wonderful.  But not so much wonderful for driving a car on it.  No-sir-ree.  In fact, not so much good at all.

But I can't even blame the clay (completely) because while we were stuck there digging around trying to free ourselves it was brought to my attention by my long-suffering and utterly wonderful wife that there was a route through the middle of the clay muck that was a little bit higher and a lot firmer than the lower and softer goo through which I foolishly tried to drive.  I'm going to blame a lack of seeing clearly through the dirty windshield and the 8am sunshine, but probably it was a lack of taking sufficient time to really look at where I was going.

After spending some time with logs and sticks and shovels and mud and airing down tires (which isn't so easy to do when the tire is mostly underneath the mud), I accepted the obvious truth that we were good and mired.   Fortunately we were good and mired within a mile or two of home, and had cellphone coverage.   I called our pal Donny, who drove down and with minimal effort, pulled us out.  Amazing what a difference it makes to have a few tons of Land Cruiser tugging on a vehicle.   If I haven't said it recently:  the best recovery device is still.... another vehicle!

Quick side note:  Bb was pretty bummed that we were stuck, as she just wanted some beach time.  But within a few minutes, she and the pooch were playing fetch along a really pretty stretch of a nice little jungle road, enjoying cool morning breezes and the sights and sounds of nature.  I'm a fortunate fellow to have such a wonderful spouse.   The dog, incidentally, thought that the whole experience was peachy-keen.  "Play in the mud?  And a creek?"  "Okay!!"   "Wait, now we're going to the beach too?"   "Okay!!"   "Oh, back home for a shower and a swim in the pool?"  "Okay!!"

Oh, to be a dog. 

Once unstuck (thanks again, Donny), we proceeded down a different (grassy, not muddy) back route to get to Playa Avellanas.   It was a postcard-perfect day, we played with the dog, swam in the estuary, rolled in the surf, and washed away the mud and any worries that may have lingered.


I then spent an hour with a pressure washer trying to get most (not all) of the mud off of the bottom of the truck.  Wow.  Must have had 100lbs of that stuff gunked onto and into every possible nook and cranny below the body.  Impressive.

As it turns out, getting stuck where we were was a blessing:  the following day we went horseback riding along the same route and saw that there were at least two subsequent mudholes that would have been much more difficult to drive through and much more of a serious problem to get out of.  Not to mention that anyone coming to help would have had to negotiate the difficult spot in which we were stuck in order to get to the even-more-difficult holes later on.

Clearly the reason we got stuck where we did was an amazing act of prognostication on my part.





See: That's how good I am.

Labels: 4wd, 4x4, avellanas, day trip, dog, land cruiser, mud, photo, tamarindo

Finally got my roof rack re-installed yesterday, took much longer than it should have to prep it, and also too long to just plain get it installed. Sharp drill bits work much better than dull drill bits.  Drilling 1/4" steel is time consuming, even with sharp bits, especially when you mis-measure 6 of 12 holes and have to redo them. Jocelyn was a super star, lifting sun-heated metal overhead on a hot day is unpleasant work but she helped immensely, taking the rack back off, then re-drilling, then putting back on was a drag.

With the rack finally in place, we figured "hey, lets take a spin over to the hill behind the estuary to snap a photo and enjoy an afternoon beverage".   The hill is only about a mile away, nice n easy, no worries.

As this is the very beginning of the dry season, there are many wildflowers on the roadside, choking  the roadway... no worries, just stay in the middle and drive on up.  Sure, the road has a few little ruts, 4wd, onward and upward...   we jog this road all the time, nothing to see here.

Um...

Why did we suddenly shift 2 feet to the right and are now sitting at 45 degrees with two wheels spinning in the air?   This isn't the way it is supposed to work.

Stuck.   Totally and completely.  What we couldn't see for the shrubbery is that along the right side of the road, a ditch very suddenly forms-  within a car length it goes from 12" deep and 36" wide, to suddenly 4 or 5 feet deep (no exaggeration) and 18" wide.    I was resting on both axles, the front passenger side fender, and one rear tire.  Nothing else.   Great.

I tried reversing out, you never know, right?  But didn't even have enough traction to notice a change.  Ok.   So be it.   I jumped (literally) down out of the driver's seat and finally convinced Jocelyn to climb over and jump out too.  She was (not without some reason) worried that climbing around might upset the balance of the truck and topple it.  I *said* it was impossible, but truth is that I was wondering how much further the truck could tip without flopping.  At least it fell into the ditch on the uphill part of the road.  I guess that's good.  Still, I preferred it didn't flop all the way onto its side.  That would complicate the extraction.

For sure it was good that we were less than a mile from home.  We trotted back and borrowed a neighbor's 4Runner, grabbed my hilift out of the garage, and a 5ftx8" log that was in the garage as well.  

To minimize potential damage to the 4Runner's IFS front end, I reversed up to where we were stuck.  That alone would have been nearly impossible without Jocelyn's very able spotting. 

Remember, I was in 4wd on the lifted Cruiser on 33's to get to where we were stuck, driving up in reverse in a stock 4runner on 31s was....  slow.  Of course I was also hyper-aware of not getting near the sides of the road (and potential invisible ditches).

Got to the Cruiser and wedged the log under the rear tire to act as a ramp out of the ditch. Hooked up the strap (factory tow points on the 4runner could be improved) and Jocelyn jumped behind the wheel.  I clambored up into the Cruiser thinking, "Ok, this'll be over quickly."

She starts driving down hill, in low, reaches the end of the strap, I'm ready for the jolt....

Nothing.  Just spinning tires on the 4Runner.  Not even so much as a shudder on the Cruiser.  Not so good.    "Ok, back it up, try it again, give it a little gusto!"   She hits the end of the strap going .... 5mph?  ...  Nothing.  I can barely feel the Cruiser move when she hits the end.  No chance that we are pulling it out this way.   We did try two or three more times, but didn't want to hit it hard because the front fender was resting on the bank and I didn't want to leave it there.

Jocelyn (wisely) suggested that we dig out the bank a little bit, so I broke out the shovel and the Max-Ax (with shovel) and started digging.  Side note:  the Max is super-versatile, but like most "does everything" tools, it is not the ideal solution for any given job, in this case, digging.  It is very heavy and the ax head is unwieldy. But it sure beats using branches or bare hands.

We dug for a while, and realized the extent of how badly stuck the truck really was.  It was pretty bad.  Front tire was in midair in a 4-5ft ditch, back tire was hitting dirt, but it was pretty crumbly dirt.  Driver's front was on dirt, solidly, but I don't have lockers in front, so that didn't help us any, driver's rear was in the air.  Great.

Eventually my approach evolved into digging out the sides of the ditches to basically fill the ditch, also digging out the dirt from under the driver's front tire, to lower that corner of the truck and level it out a little.   As much as I could reach without crawling under the truck (no sense killing myself) I also dug out the dirt under the axles, further leveling the truck.

The real improvement was strapping the axle to the frame, dropping the hilift into the ditch, and lifting the front corner, to lift the front tire, to fill underneath it with stones and dirt.

I think that the hilift is both one of the best and scariest recovery tools made.  I'm impressed as all get-out that you can lift a ton or three.  That's amazing to me.  Even more impressed that you can lower the same weight in a controlled way.  Awesome machine.

But standing within a foot or two of a ton or two of Land Cruiser being held up by only a 1" x 2" perforated steel bar....  makes me nervous.   Especially when weight is sitting just about near the end of the 60" hilift.    I felt a little better for being uphill, I guess that meant that at least I wouldn't be crushed by a rolling vehicle after being impaled by steel from a failed jack.  There's that. Gotta look on the bright side.

The jack held, I got some dirt and rock under the tire. No damage to me and no additional damage to the truck.

At some point while I was doing my excavation project, I managed to raise another friend on the phone.  I told Jon that I was stuck and asked if he wouldn't mind stopping off at my house to grab Jocelyn (who had returned the 4Runner) and bringing his Discovery up to help me get out. Not only did he bring Jocelyn and the disco, he brought his gal and their 3 (4?) month old baby, Benno.   It was like a pleasant Sunday picnic, only no delicious food, no wicker basket, and a very stuck Land Cruiser.  I guess it wasn't much like a picnic at all.

The girls took a walk up the hill while I continued digging with Jon's help.  I don't think I would have been able to keep going without someone pitching in, I was pretty beat already after two hours of hacking away at the rocky dirt in the 90 degree heat. Jon's enthusiasm was at least as welcome as his digging (which was very welcome).

I should take a brief moment to be thankful that we were in the shade, on a hillside with some breeze.  It could have been much hotter.   We also had (have) a can of Off! in the truck.  Were it not for that, this would have been a much itchier story.

So as the darkness descended, and with an awful lot of dirt moved from under the truck into the ditch, Jocelyn made the executive decision to either pull the truck now or give up for the night and back the disco down the trail.  See, we hadn't planned quite as well when driving the disco up, and while backing down the trail was going to be a hassle in the fading daylight, it was going to be borderline dangerous (ok, maybe not so borderline) to do it in the dark.

So we hooked up the trucks again (side note:  factory tow points on the front the discovery are very robust, but also very small and difficult to access.  Probably ideal for some shipping device that is used in transport, but tired hands and a tow strap and shackle... required patience.)  and gave it a little tug.  First try=nothing.   2nd try, with a very little bit of force, and the Cruiser got both back tires on the ground and backed right out, as if from a parking space.  Free!!  At last!

I did leave about 6" of fender flare on the ground, for which I'm a little bummed because going flare-less here isn't really an option due to the Revision Tecnica (road safety test).  But one damaged flare is a small price to pay vs. a flopped Cruiser.  The front bumper may have gotten some damage in the process.  Hard to tell- my bumper is pretty trashed already.  If it is further damaged, I may never know and certainly don't mind.   I will be designing easy hi-lift attachment points into whatever bumper I build in the future.  And whatever repair work is needed on the flare, I'll get it done when I eventually repair the marker light on the other side.  Still brightsiding here- at least I hadn't just repaired/replaced the factory bumper right before busting it again.  There's that.

I detached the strap and jumped behind the wheel of Jon's truck to back him down the hill.  He ran ahead (behind) with a small maglite (better than the flashlight I didn't have in my truck, bad planning!) and did a fine job of spotting.  I was tired and more tired, so his conservative spotting was probably a very good thing.  Driving an automatic in reverse down rough terrain is not as pleasant to me as using a manual transmission.  By a large margin.  I wonder if the disco doesn't have some of those fancy features where it should moderate speed/braking automatically, but at night with an exhausted driver was not the time to find out. 

The trail widened just enough to do an 8 point turn to get the truck pointed straight, then we drove  down a little further to where Jon and I decided that he would be fine completing the road on his own (and I would have less dark and bumpy uphill to jog back to my own truck).

I borrowed his light (again, must remember to put a few in my truck, bad planning on my behalf) and started jogging uphill again.  For about the first time I realized that 36 really isn't 26.  I couldn't jog.  I wanted to jog.  My mind was jogging.  My arms were swinging in a jogging-like style.  My legs, on the other hand, were walking.  I know I'm no shining example of physical fitness, but usually that just means feeling more sore in the morning, not "unable to continue at my desired pace".   It was humbling.  But walking up didn't take that much longer and while I was walking Jocelyn had stowed all the recovery gear and generally prepped the cruiser for our return.   So I handed over the light, she spotted me down (much less conservatively than Jon had, which was also fine) to where we could turn around, and then we headed off down the hill. 

Defeated, but triumphant.  Somehow.

Jon and Philine (and Benno) were waiting for us at the bottom with two cold beers.  That sure tasted good!  We thanked them profusely and inadequately for their help, then returned home for a much needed hot shower then headed over to our neighbor's house for a delicious bbq and some more liquid therapy.

All in all, not the quick jaunt that we expected, but it was a pretty fun day anyway and we impressed ourselves at how well we work together in a situation like this.  I'm very grateful to Camilla for loaning us the 4Runner, and to Jon and Philine who spent their Sunday afternoon helping us out.  Of course I'm also very impressed by my lovely wife, as I don't think that most wives would have come back to help dig more and spot and generally participate in the extraction.

Oh, and the roof rack performed flawlessly, but I still don't have a decent picture of it.

Labels: 4wd, 4x4, Costa Rica, day trip, food, land cruiser, photo, tamarindo

Just got back from a quick overnight trip to visit the mountain cabin of a friend of mine. It was great. Cloudy, cool, foggy (all attractive when you're on the tail end of a 7 months of hot sunshine!). We grilled out some chicken and tortillas over a bonfire, drank enough beer and rum to do the trick, then sacked out in the cabin.

I didn't take a camera :( but the cabin is great: made entirely of hardwood and bamboo, it has a wonderfully natural, rustic feel to it. When the clouds did open for us, here and there, the views were spectacular.

The whole trip lasted less than 16 hours, but I suspect it will be the event that defines the entire weekend. Funny how that sort of thing happens.

Now if I could just get the smell of bonfire out of my hair...

Labels: camping, Costa Rica, day trip

Saturday morning we found ourselves at loose ends in Liberia. We drove the hour up there for an 8:15 appointment, by nine or so we were figuring out what to do next.

Seeing as how I've spent the better part of the last 15 days on the road, looking at farms, you might get the idea that I would want to do anything but look at farms. Not so! This is the part of my job that I like the best! We opted to drive around the area north-east of Liberia for an hour or three, just poking around down various roads unknown. It was a nice way to spend a cloudy morning, and Jocelyn got a chance to see an area that really is very different than where we live. The downside is that in the future I'm going to have trouble getting sympathy from her for my long days of driving all over heck and back- truth is that exploring Costa Rica in a 4x4 with some tunes on and no specific itinerary is exactly what so many tourists pay good money to do with their time, and I get to do it with the realistic hope of compensation (note: not the assurance of, which is all that it would take to make it that much better!).

One of Costa Rica's most amazing traits is that in an hour drive you can pass through 3 or more topographies and flora types that seem radically different from each other. Fun stuff. We enjoyed the white "cascajo" of Liberia- chalky stone with a thin cap of dried out vegetation above it, as well as groves of oaky-looking trees in canyons, and full-fledged forest with soaring hardwoods. All within view of a towering volcano.

Unfortunately, we didn't take the camera. Next time.

After a few hours of aimless exploration we ended up back in Liberia at the central market. Despite its not-very-central location (it is by the bus station on the edge of town) this hodge-podge of little shops is usually bustling. I can't help but wonder if walmart's presence across the street is killing the traditional marketplace's business, but it looked busy on a Saturday afternoon, even if not full. The primary emphasis seems to be meat- which makes sense as the sterile meat counter at the big box stores continues to under-whelm me, and must be equally blah to folks living here. There is something reassuring to me about buying meat from a smiling, heavyset fella with a big knife in his paw as opposed to some bewildered teenager with a hairnet and a snarl. For the butcher's sake, I hope that others continue to value his contribution.

We ate a decent (enormous) $9 lunch at a noisy but clean little spot with a view of the bus station. She got arroz con camarones, that could have been called shrimp with rice for the relative proportion of ingredients (yum!), I got a light-on-flavor but heavy-on-spices fried fish fillet that was purported to be mahi but might have been catfish for all I could tell. The fried plantains were perfect. Watching people milling around the bus station might not sound all that scenic, but I enjoy traveling vicariously through others. Seeing all ages carrying all manner of bundles, bags, and whatnot is great imagination fodder.

On the way home we detoured down some more unknown roads, including a brief flyby of the town of Filadelfia. I've driven past their fancy arch (picture coming someday) at least 200 times, and always wondered what the town is like. Yesterday we found out that it is a cute little traditional Tico city. We're already planning a return trip to check it out, but this time, with camera(s) in tow and perhaps some snacks. There are at least two well manicured parks with benches, a long levy to keep the Tempisque river out of town, which also seems to serve as a promenade of sorts, and plenty of little taverns, bars, and shops in which to polish off a frosty beverage, sitting in the shade watching the world slowly pass by in the rippling heat waves.

Taking yet another turn off of the main road, I nearly managed to get us completely stuck in a rutted out ox-cart track in the middle of who-knows-where. The truck wasn't so much stuck, really. It was just that we didn't have much traction, were on a path that was only about 18 inches wider than the doors, and going forward involved straddling a 5ft-deep rut that was about 3 feet wide, with less than 10 inches on one side of it.

This, to me, is about as good as it gets. To the lovely and long-suffering lady in the city-shoes sitting next to me in the truck, it held less appeal. Choosing the better part of valor; with a little smart driving and a few devilish "ain't this great?" grins I reversed up a few hundreds yards of rutted track and rotted logs, to a little gate in the fence, instead of risking much Land Cruiser damage, and a few hours of "how are we getting this out?" time.

We followed a much nicer trail but soon found ourselves at a locked metal gate. Someone had recently invested in a shiny new padlock and a massive length of chain snaked through the 1" steel bar of the gate, then around a rotting but still-solid wooden fencepost.

Jocelyn: "Now what? [implied: All hope is lost]".

"No worries", says I, as I jumped out of the truck and proceeded to untwist the single strand of coaxial cable that was holding the other side of the gate to the tilting fencepost.

Jocelyn: "Been touring many farms recently?" as we drove through laughing at this typically Costa Rican moment.

We finished up the day with some pool time, then a sunset walk with the pooch while the sky and sun amazed us with gold, pink, and blue. Fired up the BBQ for some grilled squash, beets, fresh corn in the husk, and spicy sausage all accompanied by a tasty bottle of "Druid's Fluid" provided by my friend Bob as a thanks for the time he spent visiting a little while back.

Labels: 4wd, 4x4, Costa Rica, day trip, food, land cruiser, liberia

Tonopah Station. It was cold, they take dogs. Other than that, I don't have much to endorse.	Tonopah proper has some older buildings that I liked	More old buildings in Tonopah	And old cars. There is plenty of "old" there.
...and a CREEPY "clown motel". I'm afraid of clowns, a little, and this place looks to me to be straight out of a Stephen King novel. I *almost* wish we had stayed there. Just to say we did. (note freaky 2/3-size painted guy on wall)	More old. More Tonopah. Pretty mountains	On the road again... with great, big, fluffy clouds	Nevada desert dropping into Eastern California desert
I wish that I had noticed the highway marker before clicking the shutter	Doggy break. Sage.	I have no idea why I took this picture, hope you enjoy it.	Probably an awesome trout stream. Owens Valley, California (and no, we didn't have rods nor licenses, dangit)
First of several hot springs with some hippy-dippy self-appointed caretaker who turned out to be a real peice of work. The best description I can offer is that he was a burnt-out surf goat type who was feeling territorial about "his" mungy little hot spring in the middle of almost-nowhere and sent us looking for a "better" one...	...which lead us down some well-maintained fire roads with towering trees	also soaring vistas -the Eastern Sierra in California is pretty. Go there.	We finally found the "super secret" springs that the Goat had described. So secret that they had posted signs, and were entirely concreted in and no camping allowed.
At least the setting remained spectacular, but we decided to press onward	Soop. Surveying the Scenery serenely.	A lousy picture of a pretty building	Now *this* is more like what we were looking for!
Natural hot spring cascading down into a natural pool formed by naturally(?) stacking rocks in a rough pattern.	Complete with wildflowers	And more wildflowers	and more wildflowers!
Majestic trees, seen from our campsite	We even needed a little 4wd to get to our site	After a soak in the springs, we built a firepit and enjoyed a tasty dinner.	Our site
I like the progress of my insulation when everyone else stayed pretty much the same. Left to right: Steve, Annette, Seth, Soop	Soop put on a different hat, I'm sporting down jacket. The tropis will do that to you.	Campfire beats Casino 10/10 (but isn't as warm).

Labels: 4wd, 4x4, california, camping, day trip, expedition, land cruiser, nevada, photo, vacation