Panama Part 2: Electric Booga-Baru (sorry...)

Boquete
Sept 26 - Oct 1

Panama does this frustrating thing at their bus terminals where, in addition to buying a bus ticket, you also have to purchase a money card, which you then use to pay to enter the parking lot containing your bus. It's not expensive, but it is a hassle, and no one tells you until the moment your hips slam against an unyielding metal turnstile that you need to go to a separate window and buy a separate ticket merely to exit the building. Damnit Panama, why didn't you tell us this an hour ago, when we got here ludicrously early and sat twiddling our thumbs in the food court?

So we bussed from Panama City to David, and then on to the town of Boquete, which is up in the mountains and is a hub for all kinds of adventurous activities, including white water rafting, ATV riding, zip-lining, and of course, the majestic Volcan Baru, which is the very tallest point in Panama, and from which, on a clear day, one can see both the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. It is a little over 11,000 feet, and, as its name suggests, is a volcano. It is also unquestionably the work of the devil.

We decided that seeing the view from the top of the tallest point in Panama sounded like a pretty cool thing to do, and the helpful front desk staff at our hostel told us that if we really wanted to do it right, we should start hiking at midnight so that we arrive at the summit for the sunrise. They even had a handy shuttle that left the hostel at 11:30 pm (and, in fact, only at 11:30 pm).

So. That's what we did. The shuttle drove us, and three gratingly chipper Peace Corps volunteers, out through miles of open farmland to the base of the volcano in the middle of the night. When we got there, the driver pointed into a void of darkness. 'It's that way.' We switched on our headlamps and began our climb.

I'd love to claim that we are in such peak physical condition that we bounced up the volcano, energized and ready to see an incredible, life-affirming sunrise, a bit out of breath, because we're only human, but not reaching the final summit at a literal crawl, or taking infinitesimal steps and staring slack-jawed into mid-distance.

Unfortunately I was very much a slack-jawed zombie by the end of this hike. Eian, to his credit, fared better, and would have made it to the top earlier if he hadn't had to periodically stop and wait for me to master my urge to ugly-cry. It was absurdly awful. The terrain was almost entirely loose rocks, at a steady 45 degree angle the entire way, in pitch darkness from midnight til six am. There was no scenery to enjoy, being that it was the middle of the night, so we were climbing through a tunnel of headlamp light, the rocks looking like increasingly softer and more pillowy places to take a nap. Every so often the glowing yellow eyes of a sheep in a nearby pasture would scare the hell out of us, as a lot of innocuous things will tend to do when we're stranded on a mountain in a foreign country at three in the morning. There were probably four different crazed moments throughout our climb that I had the unshakeable feeling that we were being watched by someone just beyond the scope of our flashlight, which is terrifying, because everyone here carries machetes. I guess what I'm getting at is that this would be a prime location for an episode of Scare Tactics. Someone get me in touch with Tracy Morgan. 

When we finally limped to the summit, exactly at sunrise, we were relieved to hear that the Peace Corps volunteers, who had left us in their dust at the beginning, had only actually beaten us to the top by about half an hour. They'd also fallen asleep waiting for sunrise, which, fyi, is how you freeze to death. So. Points subtracted for that one. I think we all know who the real kings of the mountain are.

The view from the top was, in all fairness to Volcan Baru, pretty amazing, in the way that being above the clouds just is amazing. Because that was all we could see. We did not see either ocean, or even the town of Boquete, just a rolling, wavy sea of clouds. We were above thunderstorms and lightning, both of which we could see at various points below us in the distance. 

Stunning vista

Exquisite

Black shapes

When we'd seen all angles to be seen of the view, eaten our sandwiches, and drunk our Powerade, we started back down the mountain, a new spring in our step because the sun was officially up and we could actually see our surroundings. We were feeling pretty good! Hey, high fives all around, gang! 

We'd picked our way down one full  kilometer before I fell and twisted my ankle, something that would happen to both of us repeatedly all the way down the volcano. And then it started to rain. Eian shouldered my backpack and helped me down one loose, slippery rock at a time, for the following twelve kilometers. Another six hours later, a small ways from the bottom, a truck from a nearby farm came rumbling down the road. The driver didn't even pretend to be surprised that I'd hurt myself. He just jerked his thumb toward the cab of his truck, where his numerous daughters were already squishing themselves to one side to make room for us.

He dropped us off at the exit, where we had to pay five dollars each for trail maintenance (LOL, good one, Panama). The park ranger did his best to fashion his face into an expression resembling sympathy, but in his head he was thinking "if I have to hear about another damn gringo falling down the mountain..." I'm sure people twist their ankles every day on his watch. He's hardened to it. Can't save 'em all, he says to himself, gritting his teeth and staring over the expanses of farmland at the base of his mountain, watching the sun set on another injured tourist's day. Or something like that.

It was about two pm when we got back to our hostel, took showers and then collapsed into our beds and slept the rest of the day. The folks back at the hostel were excited to hear how our hike had gone. "What about the sunrise?? Was it incredible??" When we told them how much it sucked, they laughed and joyfully exclaimed things like "I know, it's so terrible!" and "The cartilage in my knee is shot to hell!" So, freaks. We took advice for how best to experience Panama from absolute freaks.

A couple of days later we went white water rafting and that made it all better, because white water rafting is a blast, even when you fall out of the boat, which we both did. We GoPro'd the ride, so now we have a stupid amount of footage of a river! Don't you worry, I'll make sure I post all four hours of it very soon! (Okay fair enough, that's an empty threat, as there is nothing 'very soon' about this blog, it's not exactly a live feed, I GET IT)

After rafting we said goodbye to Boquete and that charmer of a mountain Volcan Baru (and to Eian's phone, which he left on the table of a cafe, and which also had more Baru and Boquete pics on it), and bussed over to David to stay the night before leaving for Costa Rica in the morning. Hot tip: there is absolutely nothing you need to see in David! Sorry David.

Coming up: Costa Rica AKA the entire reason for our trip, no pressure or anything Costa Ricans, but we are expecting your country to be the best thing we've ever seen, can't wait to be blown away, okay great, see you soon.