El Chorro Revisited

The first run we did in Costa Rica last January was El Chorro; this time it was the last. Peter had already gone home so it was Josh, Alicia and I. Two days after dropping Peter at the airport I came down with a nasty head cold and felt too ill to leave the house for two days. It started with a cough on Sunday and migrated upwards. It was probably a combo of the Guaro on Friday, a smoothie that was probably loaded with more sugar than I anticipated on Saturday, and restaurant food also on Saturday. The meat I'd eaten at dinner on Friday did end up giving me some problems, setting up for weakened immunity. There are worse places to be sick; at least there was an ocean view and shade for most of the day. The only difficult time was when the power went out, which also meant the internet and the water went out; no juicing curative veggies and fruits, no fan, which meant in the afternoon, no respite from the heat. I also heard reports that the surf came up. Life is not always fair.

By Wednesday I was up to rope-swinging into a waterfall pool and walking along the beach. I passed on free-shots Ladie's night and went to bed pretty early. Thursday I almost felt normal, as normal as one can feel after being sick for two days and when certain cycles mysteriously occur ahead of schedule. It hadn't rained much since we got back, so I suggested to Josh we find out if El Chorro was at a reasonable level. Turns out his friend Arturo was going to kayak it alone. It was 9am; plan was to meet at Rio Tropicales at 11.

Riverboarding can be so mental. In January, the biggest thing I'd run up to that date was the White Salmon. El Chorro was a bit on the lower side and bony. I couldn't steer my hydrospeed and kept getting slammed into rocks. By the time we got to Stacey's Lament I was a little shaken and decided to portage that part. There's a movie called "A Glorious Way to Die" about some river running in Siberia, and one of the more memorable quotes is that when you portage something, it leaves a permanent blank spot in your life. I was determined to fill in that spot.

This time the level was a little higher, but not as high as when Josh rafted/swam it. Then the water had been brown. It was a "good level" and a beautiful blue/green. My only concern was that my energy was still pretty low and I had some lingering dizziness. After suiting up we hiked the trail down to the river and I was overheated. Arturo and a friend of his were playing in a hole at the put in. He discussed the upcoming rapids in detail. Alicia was trying to silence the voices in her head about the impending dangers. I didn't want to tell her it would be easy, because it's not. But I didn't want to freak her out about it either.

I followed Arturo's line fairly easily. Funny how many details can be forgotten over the course of nearly a year. When we got to Stacey's, none of the exposed rocks that had made it a more technical boulder garden in January were showing. The falls weren't really falls and the hole was more filled in; we didn't bother scouting it. Arturo told us there is a line around the left of it that might be easier than his boof line. I was unable to get over left but found a nice seam to slide down. Alicia followed me but Josh went around.

Immediately after the drop it narrows to less than 10' wide with black rock walls on both sides. I remembered feeling pushed up against the wall last time and so angled my board to the right and kicked, as the current pushes you left.

There were a few other technical spots, and the very last significant rapid, I found myself riding that ridge that forms to the side of the holes, where the water is fastest, and was kind of wishing I'd gone for the hole. I suppose it was the 'perfect' line but it almost seemed too smooth. I was hoping we'd do it at least one more time (it's only a mile long), but it rained so hard the water came up about 18" and turned brown rather suddenly.

So my blank spot is filled in. El Chorro seemed a little less threatening this time, and I was a lot more comfortable on the candy-stripe hydrospeed. This stretch is nothing to underestimate, but experience and confidence went a long way towards making up for my lack of energy. This is what I mean when I say this sport can be so mental.