I set out from Samara with my overweight back pack, surfboard, cowboy boots, cowboy shirt, cowboy jeans, cowboy booze, and a pure country (the movie) cowboy attitude. I simply had to get to this horse and load it up with my shit and ride away into the sunset right. Easy breezy, I've seen Clint, Tom, and Brad do it. Shit Chevy did it. It has to be that simple, just be in command and ride the damn horse.
I think it's pretty obvious where this going. With my backpack falling off the horse and my surfboard partially on the back of the horse then under my arm and then on the back again I managed to more or less walk and ride my horse for about 10 km through and around the town of Estrada, Costa Rica. Remember that this is a Sunday and the only thing other than the local futbol game happening on the small plaza field to watch is this pale, sweating, confused gringo with a horse and surfboard falling all over the street. You didn't forget the great "cowboy" get-up did you? Yeah well I guarantee they haven't either. Holy shit what a sight it must have been and so day one unfolded in such a way that my first reaction was not to shed ego but to start shedding gear. First I handed my surfboard to a perfect stranger passing by and asked that he keep it safe for 4 weeks until my return from this epic journey. Then as I reached the river I realized that I had to get rid of the rest of my gear, all of it, save the essentials. The trip must go on!! As planned!!
Nope, nada, hell no...As the reality of my sure defeat sank in I decided not to dump everything I owned in an effort to continue but to simply give in to fate. I had seriously fucked this thing up..... DAMMIT!
After a small window of digestion, I turned back with my head up, a big smile, and a whisper of an ego. I began my 4 km walk back to the farm from which my day had started. Without the board the walk was a touch easier, but the shear reality that I had grossly underestimated this project started to weigh pretty heavy on me. It was over before it began. I managed to find the address where the surfboard had retreated and found the place to be pretty damn top notch. A quick beer and chat had my bag stored with the board so it was only left to me to return the horse. Such was the true low point of day one, with no gear still having to walk to horse 3 km back to this farm because,....... well because, I don't know how to ride a horse. SO lame
Some thoughtful conversation with the guys here at the lodge as well as a solid pat on the shoulder from Cody and Amber(via Skype) had me feeling better about my failures later that night. I had arranged to get my money back the next morning and resolved to simply put my thumb out and begin a hitch-hiking surf trip around the Nicoya. I know how to do that shit so let's roll, it'll be fun and I'll shred and it's on. Different sure, but F it, I can ride horses in Colorado right, I can only surf here. With all of my lessons learned and resolve to ride horses upon my return to CO I got pretty cocktailed Monday night with the guys here at the lodge.
That's when IT happened. Drunk, disoriented, and purely exhausted I lay there in bed through the night not wanting sleep in the least, my thoughts were buried in the depths of just where I had gone wrong.(All of it) And I came to the conclusion then and there that this cannot be the end of my horseback surf trip. Just think it through a bit Will. And so I'll save you all the bullshit heroics of how I got to where I am now(I leave tomorrow morning around 7 on horseback for who knows what on the Nicoya) It's still just me and my horse, we're kinda cool now, kinda. I'll do my best to elaborate but this post is already way to long, certainly to long to proofread. Suffice to say that it has all come around and as always I have one hell of a story to tell. Signing off for now, much love. Rolliam
Luis, Jose, Bert, Gary, Christian, and most of all Galan.... Dudes, Thank you SO much!!
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