I was embarking on a trip to Somoto Canyon with the same group I would go with see to Alberto Guiterez the next day. Yes it's true, sometimes there are people who will put up with me for more than a day at a time. Not often, but it does happen.
At the other end of the 30 minute bus ride we were met by a seemingly random taxi driver who was in charge of taking us to meet our tour guide. Although this had been prearranged, we were a little surprised he had waited. The tour guide was kind enough to keep a few pairs of water shoes on hand to loan, at least for any visiting pygmies, my feet didn't stand a chance of squeezing into any of them. Whether you believe a persons size is determined by genetics, diet or more likely a combination of the two - I blame my parents for this particular trial in my life. They gave me the genes of the bigfoot, and fed me during the formative years when my feet grew the largest amounts. It's no coincidence that my feet have only gained one size it the second half of my life spent outside of their home.
I wasn't worried about the shoes though, my trusty Adidas sandals had yet to begin the dance of death and were fated to last until Guatemala, and on to Texas in a hideous Frankenstein fashion. Sometimes it becomes an issue when I never know when to let go of shoes, and will drag the most decrepit pair way past acceptable, into the realm of homeless rejects. I say if you're going to wear articles of clothing most likely made in sweatshops, you should at least wear them as long as possible.
But I digress, I had a canyon to swim.
| cows |
After bagging our cameras, and donning life jackets we waded into river water that was just the right temperature to combines with the summer sun keeping you at a perfectly balanced temperature. At first I scoffed at the idea of wearing the life jackets, it was only later I realized they weren't being worn so much to save you from drowning, but to allow you to rest. Over the next few hours we would alternate between scrambling along rock walls, and swimming along, riding thru most of the rapids. Quite often the sides were steep and slick, with nowhere to hold on if were tired.
Following that jump there was nothing left to do but relax for the rest of the trip. There was one more jump later, but at half or less of the height of the first. After the first tall jump, nothing else was going to be as exciting, but just flowing along in the river for the next hour or so with the sun peeking over the top of the canyon was a soothing contrast to the adrenaline of the jump.
