Climbing el volcán Maderas......

It's suprisingly easy for me to get up at 4am and feel ready to climb a volcano. Piece of cake, right? The ascent up the Maderas Volcano is 5km and rocky, sometimes muddy, and at times feels more like rock climbing than hiking. Our young and agile guide, Omar, appears to be sprinting in comparison to us and he's usually skipping ahead of us and then waiting for us around a bend or up a steep hill. Probably helps to have boots, huh, instead of stretched out, worn walking shoes like I have. No one has enough water and us 3 gals (Me, Abby and a Californian named Kari) are just not quite in the shape that our guide is in, eh.

We come across some ruckus-making and curious howler monkeys and later a branch-throwing white-faced monkey. Omar says the white-faced monkeys are more intelligent and also more aggressive, but he doesn't say whether there's a connection between the two characteristics. Hm.

The trees are amazing and the diversity of the plants even more so- ferns, flowers, thick undergrowth and towering trees completely covered and filled with tinier, just-as-complex ecosystems. Birds scream and chirp and flutter all around us, denying even the thought of quiet in this forest. Yet, it's often hard to focus on the natural beauty all around us because one misstep can mean a nasty fall and if you look to the side, you'll probably get smacked on the head by a low branch.

Somewhere around kilometer 4, we 3 gals get delirious, laughing hysterically at nothing and slipping and sliding all over the place. At one point I even found myself hanging precariously from a branch over a low drop-off, somehow turned around and facing the direction we'd come from, without the slightest recollection of how it had happened. Omar must think we're insane.

After 4 hours, we arrive to a tranquil lagoon in the crater on the top of the volcano. I collapse onto the ground and Kari tries to wade into the lagoon only to find herself up to her knees in mud within seconds. At this point my weak ankles, made worse by my terrible shoes, are aching to the point of delirium. The descent back down is 6km because we take a different route and every step becomes a shocking blast of pain shooting up from my foot to my brain. After a couple of kilometers I consider just laying down in the forest and staying the night there. Instead, I bite my lip and clench my fists and stumble down the hill the best I can, walking freakishly like a Frankenstein-esque character. By the time we get to the bottom, I can't speak and just point to cold-looking beverages at the corner store and mutter about snacks while we wait for our bus. Omar drinks 2 beers while we wait, completely unphased by the day, despite his having only gotten 3 hours of sleep the night before. Whatever.

Abby ices me up at the hotel and we drink a bit to ease the pain. I should probably have just gone to bed but instead, wanting to drive the pain out of my mind, I slammed a few Toñas and a few cups of Flor de Caña. Ahhh.