We've experienced terrific white-water rafting in California, Montana, Washington and Colorado, but now undeniably older, should we start our vacation with the physically strenuous, potentially dangerous task of paddling through Class III and Class IV rapids for over three hours?
An age cap of 55 seemed to shut down the plan before we started, but I called Viator and received permission from the rafting company's owner by sharing the facts that we were in good physical condition and experienced rafters.
I pooh-poohed Julie's concerns regarding difficulty, noting that we wouldn't be the only ones paddling in our raft.
We would be part of a team rowing synchronously as one.
Plus, we had rafted on Rio Corobici in Costa Rica when we ported in Puntarenas on our Panama Canal cruise a few years back, and it had been easy-peasy.
Claims of Category IV-plus were probably exaggerated, I assured her using my most persuasive salesman persona.
Our excursion included hotel pick-up and drop-off in San Jose, which was key in selecting that particular rafting trip, because whether you take the slow roads or highway, the Pacuare River is three hours from San Jose.
When booking any kind of excursion --- and this is even more true if it is a shore excursion where you must be back at the ship on time or be stranded --- always double-check specific arrangements. It is easy to be lured to a less expensive excursion with more hassles, if you make false assumptions about times and other details.
A van pulled up to our hotel within the appointed time range. Our guide for the day, Tara, a 6'2" blonde from Minnesota (obviously a Viking), introduced herself and our driver.
Already inside the van were six 18- to 21-year-old young ladies, all of whom were in Costa Rica training to teach English abroad. They were from the same general region near Philadelphia as us (New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland and Pennsylvania).
Interestingly, none of these future teachers seemed to speak Spanish, so I assume the classes must be 100% immersive into English. They were all very sweet and friendly.
The initial part of the drive through the city and suburbia was not terribly impressive. Curb appeal doesn't seem to be a high priority for buildings in Costa Rica. Eventually, the forests which would otherwise dominate if the land had remained undeveloped became more prevalent. The driver spotted a sloth and backed up so we could see it.
We stopped at a restaurant that other than a sign on a pole was hidden from the road in Turrialba.
Upon sitting down and taking in the gorgeous view of the volcano on the horizon, the choice of venue was obvious.
This being our first morning in Costa Rica, we didn't realize how quickly weather could change, and before Julie pulled out her iPhone to take a photo, the light puffy clouds that accented the green slopes expanded into fog that obscured our view. Still, it was beautiful in constantly changing ways, and eventually the fog dissipated enough for a decent photo.
In the valley before us was a town that Tara said was her favorite in all of Costa Rica. She has lived in Costa Rica primarily for the last thirty years, working as a rafting guide. She said she occasionally took guide jobs on rivers in California and other parts of the US as a change of pace.
Breakfast would be our first experience with Casado, which basically means "home food." It is the typical meal in Costa Rica.
Gallo Pinto is Costa Rica's version of beans and rice, less spicey than Cajun or Jamaican recipes but still delicious. Fried plantains is another key element. Fresh fruit and protein, in this case scrambled eggs, complete Casado. Toast and orange juice was also included with breakfast.
This being Costa Rica, there was naturally great coffee served with the meal. Costa Rica decided a few years ago to grow only the best coffee, Arabica, and stake its reputation on quality rather than price.
There are different roastings, but it always starts with the best beans. A few days later we would tour a coffee plantation to learn more.
Tara encouraged us to eat all of this sumptuous meal, because we would need the energy. I obeyed, including a couple of bites of Julie's breakfast.
Viator advertises 38 rapids on this trip. Scanning a different website that included rapid names, I certainly remember most of them (including all of the harder rapids). We started at "Tres Equis Farm Put In" and pass Highway Bridge to "Siquirres Take Out," so we definitely did almost the entire river.
As we put on our life vests, Tara said she had decided to let the six girls go with another guide in a second boat, while Tara would take Julie and me. We expressed some concern, but Tara wasn't listening.
So much for my assurances to Julie that we wouldn't be the only ones paddling in our raft.
As we departed, the other guides yelled something about having only two of us on that boat, and I think Tara replied saying something about experience. Hablamos poco español.
Tara ordered that we use a unique position for sitting on the raft. I think perhaps it was required for stability, because we would be the only paddlers as she focused on steering us through the rapids. Sitting in what seemed very awkward on the side of the raft halfway between the baffles (rather than on the the point where baffles met the edge as on most raft trips) meant that my left hip was contorted to stretch oddly in order to keep my feet anchored.
Then she directed us to lean forward further than natural to dig the paddle deep into the water, even when the boat bobbed up.
As we attacked the rapids, the Viking was relentless, demanding more from Julie's efforts, perhaps identifying a Viking kindred spirit in Julie's blonde hair and blue eyes.
Julie wasn't digging the constant corrections to dig deeper with her oar and paddle harder.
After an hour of working as hard as Viking warriors powering a longship to strengthen our muscles before plundering wherever we would land, our small armada of rafts stopped at a beautiful eco-lodge where a few more rafts joined us.
Multi-day rafting trips are also available, allowing time to spread out the time running rapids.
When we stopped for lunch an hour later, we would learn that the folks on the rafts that joined us midway were on a G-Adventure Tour. They had spent the night at that luxurious lodge along the river, which they said was awesome.
Asking us if we were okay going alone, we told Tara we would like some help, so two of the girls from our van joined us in our raft, never once complaining about this fate.
In fact, they seemed to embrace the opportunity to take turns as lead rowers.
After another hour, we stopped for the by then much anticipated and well-earned lunch break. Our guides broke out provisions to prepare a feast in a covered picnic area. The fresh vegetables, fruit, refried beans, tortillas, cheeses, lunch meats, bread, chips, crackers, dips and more were plentiful and tasty.
Between prep time, eating and clean-up, the guests enjoyed a good rest, for which we were grateful.
When we took off again, two other girls traded out for the ones who had joined Julie and me for the prior hour, and again they did so without a hint of resentment, simply enjoying the trip.
And what a river rafting trip it was.
We encountered lots of exciting rapids, going past multi-story waterfalls and green jungle-covered cliffsides.
We paddled through one waterfall, with thousands of gallons of water pouring down on us as we traversed it. We paddled behind another waterfall which didn't soak us quite as much.
Approaching one particularly perilous spot, Tara said she would tell us all to get in the middle of the boat, the only time when that would be ordered, because apparently at least some of us would fall out in the raging rapids through the jagged rocks all around if we didn't.
We survived that exhilarating stretch and others almost as treacherous, laughing as we gave a high five with paddles upon living to tell the tale.
As we floated along, we spotted lots of wildlife, including toucans and other birds flying overhead and striking bright blue butterflies that could be spotted from a hundred yards away as they flitted over the river, seeming to almost glow like neon in the sunlight. On the shore were monkeys and a giant iguana, which we'd see more of later in our vacation.
At one very calm stretch, Tara invited us to get out of the boat to float. She looked at me, encouraging me to go. I confess I had concerns about being able to climb back on the boat at that current state or exhaustion, though she said she knew how to pull me up no problem.
I don't think it was concern about crocodiles that kept me in the boat, because others seemed to be enjoying the float. After hours of paddling, I was just happy to sit there and enjoy the scenery moving slowly along for a change.
z
As a precaution, I had not brought my phone. Julie left hers in the van, so we took no photos during our trip. I regret not buying the photo package offered. The only pictures of river rafting and scenery are stock photos lifted from Viator's site. Trust me when I say this is a strikingly beautiful river, cutting through jungle cliffsides.
The included videos I found on youtube are pretty accurate, although it is much more exciting when you're in the raft paddling for your life.
We arrived at the Siquirres Take Out endpoint with mixed emotions. It had been an amazing white-water experience that we hated to see coming to a close, but we were also plum tuckered out. The idea of sleeping on the way to San Jose sounded quite appealing.
Before boarding the van, we had the chance to shower and change into dry clothes in the locker room. There was additional time to buy refreshments while videos of photos taken during the trip show on TV monitors before our van headed back.
While Julie may never forget the Viking "encouragement," we highly recommend this tour!
