Dominican Republic Adventure

iHey All,

Well my latest adventure started with a strike in Piarco airport which delayed my flight by 6 hours and I missed my connection to the Dominican Republic, so a night was spent in San Juan, Puerto Rico.  Then in 10 hours Category 1 Hurricanne Noel developed right next to Dom Rep and cancelled my next two morning flights, but finally I got a flight to Puerto Plata that was less bumpy than expected.  My first impression of the Dom Rep was akin to the movie Death Race 2000 where contestants would get points for running over perdestrians, here though the target was the very mobile and plentiful mopeds, scooters and small motor bikes, I figured sooner rather than later we would run over some local on a moped and get a prize for it.  There is an actual local joke that goes like that where the driver misses but the passenger gets him with the door.  I met my local hosts Fernando and Hugo and my cohort Jeremy Garet (J) from Vermont and had lunch.  Fernando, J and I drove for 4 hours, we arrived in Samana at the home of a friend of Hugo's called Martin, where we crashed for the night and got up before dawn to get the 7am ferry to Sabana del Mar. 

The Ferry at Samana was postponed to 9am because of bad weather so we went exploring and found this cool bridge which we crossed and found a seagrass bed with starfish below the bridge.  Got back to the ferry at 8:40am and the ferry was heading off at 9, so Fernando went to park the car leaving J and I and when he came back the ferry had already gone at 8:50am.  Organization is not the Dom Rep's strong suit.  So Fernando found us a small boat, which was in another port, we went there and long story short - the boat driver got permission to exit the port, then I forgot my batteries and had to go back for them, drove like crazy (the norm here), got the batteries and hit the sea, while at sea we find out that we actually did not get permission so we snuck off like thieves.  Its all fun and crazy.

So we head to Samana del Mar where a chap called Richard collects us and we drive 2 hours to Hatto Mayor and collect the lovely Marga and we head to Fun Fun Cave, now its actually pronounced Foon Foon which imitates the sound of bats wings, a sound I am intimate with, but then I am also have a nose that's very attuned to the smell of their shit.  So we gear up and jump I jump on a horse, which is something I have never done before, but you know I love adventure and anything new.  They gave me a nice docile horse and we started slowly walking off with no instructions other than hold the reins.  Things got a bit more interesting when we started trotting then galoping, the trotting was bumpier and harder but the gallop for my first time on a horse was scary, specially when we head down this steep slope and cross a river.   Actually I used my mountain biking experience and that of far too many cowboy movies as a kid helped.  So we got off the horses and hit the cave which is one of the longest I have ever been in and has a strong river in it.  We had to use ropes to get across from the flood but the guides were great and took us deep inside.  The water eventually got clear and we went swimming.  In all an excellent cave; I did see the largest Manicou Crab and whip scorpion I have ever seen, cool stuff!  After the ride back we had lunch at 4pm in a storm both of which were excellent. 

The drive back was interesting as we forged several rivers that created rapids crossing the roads, without 4X4 we would heve been stuck at the cave.  Of course that made us very late so plans changed to staying a wonderful lodge called Paraiso Canyo Hondo, which is next to Los Haitises a national park.  We had yet another great meal, met wonderful people and had a good sleep.  At dawn we were greeted with the fact that our road was now the river 10 feet from out door.  That did not bug us as I did some birding and we head off into Los Haitises which is a cast system (made of lime stone - basically a massive coral reef puched out of the water forming steep hills, cliffs, caves and waterways).  The area is stunning with contrasts of cliffs, emerald waters, and verdant mangroves.  A small cave reveals many hieroglifs of wildlife, humans, death, life and much more. 

We hustle to the ferry and actually get it this time, the crossing is easy and we head for lunch at Martin's home, after scrumptous vitals we get horses again and  head to Salto Limon (Limon Waterfall, pronounced Leemon) on horse back.  The trail is steep, muddy and peppered with limestone outcrops that make the trail slippery for the horses, but with all of one ride under my belt I am feeling more comfortable and am riding better.  It must be said that these horses obviously knew this trail very well and were very good with be giner riders, I will not be joining a rodeo any time soon, probably never.  Then its another 4 hour drive to Santiago.

Next morning I meet up with a great local called Francisco Valerio, who is the President of the DR's mountain biking association.  We drive on what even in Caribbean standards can barely be called a road, I figured we may have to swim the road; obviously damaged by Noel.  We find a new road and get to the head of our trail, which is simply a dirt road.  The ride starts at 1500 feet elevation, goes down, then up, and down and up, you get the gist.  Our highest is 2800 feet and lowest is 1100 feet with some tough climbs and fast downs dodging people, vhicles and the ever present mopeds, actually this is where I saw a moped that I regret I did not photograph.  The guys is riding with two chickens in a cage behind him, with a big mama behind that and the topper is next to the two live chickens is the fate: A plastic bag with three pairs of plucked chicken feet sticking out!! 

I am riding this fully carbon Giant Hardtail that is Francisco's wifes bike, which at 22 pounds is 10 pounds lighter than my bike and far more rigid, a very different ride.  Its great on the climbs but on the downhills I am not my uusual self and much less agressive as I am paraniod I will break it in haf; the bike ain't cheap.  5 hours of riding finds us in Jarabacoa, where we hit the famous Rancho Biguarte for relaxation and some birding before we drive to the top on the very large mountain for the afternoon's activities:  A 4000 foot elevation loss over about 5 miles on dirt road that has vehicles, mud and pot holes on it.  It was a real kick in the butt, though I could not help but think it would have been mind blowing if it was all single track, which I now have as a goal, build a sweet single track down one of the big mountains.

The next day we gear up for my first time of whitewater rafting.  I am looking forward to it big time.  We get all geared up and jump on the back of this truck that takes us to the put it.  On the way up we stop and the guides show us this section of the river called Mike Tyson; because it bites and hits hard.  Mike and I will soon be intimate!  So we get to the put in and the leader tells us the river is still too high from hurricanne Noel so we will go to an easier portion of the river.  The guides will use the chance to do some training and will run the top part wihich is class 5 instead of the usual class 3.  Then as an after thought I am offered to go with the guides as there is space: yeah, it took me less than a nanno second to decide; oh hell yes I am going!!!  So with nothing more than a sit here, paddle like this when we tell you, tuck your feet in here and dive in the boat when we tell you we head out on to the river. 

The first 30 seconds are quiet, then all hell breaks loose as we dive bouncing wildly down this rapid, I dive in the boat a split second before the captain tells me to.  Then I'm up and we're off paddling hard trashing and bouncing down these amazing rapids.  After the first run they ask if I want more; with my pupils dilated big as footballs of every kind I enthusiastically say oh yeah!  We head into "Grand Canyon" and other rapids, I gain confidence, we switch places on the boat to get different experiences.  I was alive with the fear and excitement, just like when I take others into the bats of Tamana Cave.

The orders come; "FORWARD!", "STOP!", "REVERSE!" and we paddle hard having a great time, shouting and high fiving every time we navigate the tough rapids.  Its obvious to me their skills are being tested as the river is bigger than usual, they are having a great time, but we have a serious chance of rolling.  We bassically fall over Mike Tyson and amazingly make it, but on Mike Tyson Junior we roll!!!  Bodies tumble all about as we are tossed like flying corks.  I think I got elbow, ass and foot to face and head, then I find myself under the boat and do a quick check; where do I want to be, not under the boat thats for sure, there are more rapids to come and being under the boat is probably the worst place to be.  Also the guides must be looking for me.  I grab the rope and pull myself out, it takes all my strength as I do it forward so I am draging against the pull of the boat.  Fortunately as a surfer I know how not to drink the water even when you desparately want to gasp. I get out and one of the guides is on top of the upside down boat, he shows me how to grab the small holes on the bottom of the raft and together we drag me out of the water.  I lie down, pull in my feet, grab on and calm my heaving breaths for the next big drop.  A few seconds later we hit it and the guide heroicaly throws himself over me and tries to pin me to the boat, though soon we are over and in the water again, this time the raft and I get stuck in the dreaded suck back that these big rocks tend to create.  I am being sucked under and doing my best impression of a fishing cork with a fish on the line.  The water sucks me under and I pop out about three or four times, one time my left shoe gets sucked right off (in the photo you can see my sock and ankle brace but no shoe).  Eventually we get off the suck back and we drag ourselves back ontop the raft.  I look at my guide and he looks relieved so I ask if its over and he says yes, the worst is done.  I am also very relieved.  We get the raft to the side of the river and try to drag it out but as its upside down and its pulled out of our hands.  My guide and I abandon the raft in favor of dry land and the one guide left on the raft gets it to an eddie on the far side.  We trade turns at throwing a rope to him and after several tries we succeed and pull the raft to our side.  The count is me, two guides and one paddle.  After a search we come up with all guides, three paddles and me.  So we hit the river again and with the adrenalin blasting through my veins we now seek our paddles (which we do get) and the worst sections of the river to go over because we have done the worst and we now want serious fun.  This is where the teasing starts in both English and Spanish, who drank the most, my death grip on the rope, my lost shoe, a scramble for a helmet, one guy gasping for air as he struggled to rescue paddles, and everyone had an opinion of how to do the run better.  It all ended in the best way, lots of huge smiles!!!