» Hiking To Granada
  December 13th, 2006

Throughout the day yesterday, there was a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark that bobbed to the surface of my memory. After an incredibly intense day of being chased, Indiana Jones sits in a boat's cabin with his girlfriend Marion, bruised, scraped and sore. Marion tells him, "You're not the man I knew ten years ago." Indiana replies, "It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage."

Yesterday was one of those kinds of days. The previous night was a long celebration with some friends I met at Laguna de Apoyo. I stumbled back to my tent at 2:30 in the morning with a belly full of rum. I woke up five hours later to have breakfast, a bowl of papaya and yogurt. It was a lazy morning at the Proyecto Ecologico, just like every other day. The gardener captured a lizard and brought it to Jeffrey, the American biology scientist doing his research here. I spent an hour photographing the beautiful creature and Jeffrey is going to help me get my photo published in the next edition of the Nicaraguan reptiles and amphibian guidebook.

At 1pm, I left the Proyecto Ecologico, saying good-bye to the friends I had made while staying here. My plan felt fairly simple: hike from Laguna de Apoyo to Granada. It couldn't be too difficult, I thought. After all, the lights of the city could be seen hitting the clouds to the northwest in the evenings.

The hike quickly became the toughest hike I've done here in Nicaragua. I didn't take a few things into account. I had only packed one water bottle, which ran dry after I punctured it on a barb-wire fence. I slept very little the previous night. My energy level was low due to a small breakfast. And unlike previous hikes here, I was carrying everything I owned in Nicaragua - 30 pounds on the backpack and 20 pounds on the front day bag. Couldn't get any worse, right? I could and it did. The path I was taking wasn't exactly well marked.

The trail started simply, just following the main dirt road clockwise around the inside wall of the crater (remember that Laguna de Apoyo sits inside of a large extinct volcano). But when the road ended and cattle paths began, so began the guessing on where to go. At one point, I made a wrong turn and the path I was following slowly disappeared, and I found myself standing on loose dirt covered in dead leaves, a very bad combination on such a steep grade. My sister and brother-in-law might remember our trip to the jungles of Sierra Madre in southern Mexico where there were bushes with thorns over an inch long. Believe it or not, fire ants love living inside of these thorns. I shook a branch and in moments the whole bush was swarming in the red ants.

After a few course corrections, I finally made it up and out of the jungle crater and into the farmlands. I had to take a shortcut through a farm, steering clear of cattle with large horns that didn't particularly enjoy my intrusion. The owner of the farm came to greet me with his four dogs, probably a little curious on why I was trekking across his property. He directed me to the main dirt road and pointed me in the direction of Granada. I thought that my journey was almost over, but oh, how I was wrong.

With about seven miles behind me, I still had over seven to go. I passed small farm houses; some made of mud brick, some made of strips of metal and cotton sheeting. There were very few farms that I passed in which the owners were not visible. They would be either working on the farm by sweeping the dirt, pruning trees, washing and hanging clothes, or just sitting in a chair on the deck watching TV. But when I would pass by, everyone would stop what they were doing and stare at me. They most likely hadn't seen a backpacker on this road before. I would greet them with a "Buenos" and they would return the greeting. The children would run to the corner of the property and watch me as I trekked on by. I passed a house that was hosting a party. All 50 guests watched me as I walked by. I sported a smile and waved.

Around 6pm, I was becoming a mess. With the sun setting behind me, I was now walking down a dark country road with no food or water. The wind had picked up a bit and the dust stuck to my sweaty clothes and face. I had been hiking for over five hours and there was still no end in sight. I didn't want to stop and rest for fear I would fall asleep. I thought I would see the night glow of lights from Granada, helping point the direction of where to go and give me an idea of how much further I had, but no. I passed many people coming back to their houses from Granada, either on foot or by horseback, bicycle or mule cart, but it took a few hours before I found someone approaching from behind me by vehicle. Two men in a horse-drawn cart were going my way and I asked them for a ride. They drove me a mile further, right to the edge of the city. They would not accept any money, no matter how hard I tried, a great example of how the friendliness of the Nicaraguan people is genuine.

At the edge of town was the Granada hospital, a small one-story structure behind a guarded gate. I stumbled into a small cafeteria across from the hospital and purchased a small bottle of water with the last of my Cordobas. I began talking with the owner, Jose, who knew as much English as I knew Spanish. But he understood my situation that I didn't have any money but needed a taxi to take me into town. Luckily for me, his friend is an ambulance driver and he was just passing by as we were talking. One thing lead to the next and I was getting a ride to the hostel in an ambulance. I found this quite poignant considering my condition.

So here I am in Granada, my last stop before coming home. Despite the free Internet usage, these computers do not recognize my photo equipment, so photos will have to be shared upon my return home. I am looking forward to the included breakfast here at the hostel - it will be the first time I ate since that bowl of papaya and yogurt more than 24 hours ago.

It has been an excellent trip but I look forward to coming home.

As always, thanks for reading,
~K