There are places on Earth that defy cliche. Or in fact, go beyond them. Costa Rica has always been one of those spots for me. Pura Vida. Pure life. And to experience that “pure life” one simply needs to chill. Or to just slow down. Step off the plane in Liberia, let the warm, moist air hit your face, wait for the driver, who may or may not be on time (who cares), and you’ll see. Or if you’ve been there, you’ll agree.
My wife and I needed this. Time away. A beach to ourselves. A place to explore. I had, in fact, been to Nosara, and wanted to take her to see it. So, just before Christmas, we flew down to enjoy one of my favorite spots on the planet. And we scored. Playa Guiones was firing. Four to six-foot waves all week, warm offshore winds to groom the open faces. It was as if the surf gods had blessed us (me).
My wife doesn’t surf much. She does let me push her into waves. I always take a mid-length with me when I travel. She likes me to swim out with her into the surf, as I did many times at Playa Guiones, help her get position, and push her into the glassiest thing I can find. Have you ever noticed how much joy there is in someone when they simply stand on a wave and ride towards shore? The board gets stable with momentum, and they can feel that indescribable glide that keeps us all coming back. Time, after time, after time. Jenelle loves that I’m her surf caddy. And her joy is palpable in her giggling.
It’s been a helluva year for us. Our kids have all had at least one surgery (sports). And I’d been broken off harder than I ever had. Mountain biking. A sport I simply use to keep the beer gut off and my pop-up crisp, had taken much more from me the prior spring. A broken wrist. A pinned bone. The infection. Four surgeries later and I could no longer bend my right hand. To pop up, I now have to use my knuckles. I don’t know if it’s the extra leverage, or what, but strangely enough, it actually works. I’m thankful I can still enjoy the water. But it was an emotional merry-go-round for Jenelle. She’d taken care of kids, and then me. Here, she could breathe a bit. And I was better.
In a bit of irony, the beautiful place we were staying, the Gilded Iguana, offered mountain bike trips. In our two decades of being together, mountain biking had always been something we bonded over. So I took them up on the trip. We would be guided by Ricardo Moraga, a former surf coach who started the mountain biking program for the Iguana, and runs a shop next door to the hotel.
When we met him on a warm morning in December, I had no clue I was about to score one of the most epic two-sport days of my life.
We jumped on a pair of nice 29-inch bikes and headed down the dusty road, following Ricardo. As he pointed out spots along the river, and different little townships we passed through in this region of northern Costa Rica, he told of his mountain biking adventures. He’d actually raced the Leadville 100, a grueling 24-hour race in the high mountains of Colorado.
He and his biking friends had opened up a rustic trail system in Nosara, securing easements from private land owners and hand building a sweet little section of trail that wandered along a river in the Nosara backcountry.
As I geared down and started the climb on the root-worn trails that weaved through a thick jungle canopy, I could feel my inner grind kicking in. Despite being mad at mountain biking because of my accident the previous year, I still loved the adventure of it all. The getting out there and sweating and seeing country. Suddenly the trail dipped into a rut where a tiny creek drained down the mountain. My front tire stuck and in slow motion, I went over the handle bars.
Luckily I caught myself while thinking, “just calm down, idiot.”
We continued down the trail. I remained out front, with Jenelle behind me and Ricardo in the rear. As I came around the corner, I saw something in the middle of the trail that sent me immediately back to the dusty routes of Southern California. Coiled in the center of the path, was a snake, with the diamond-like markings of a rattler. My brakes screeched as I came within feet of it.
“Rattlesnake!” I yelled back at Ricardo.
“Woah,” he said in alarm. “Alright, let’s back off,” he said calmly.
Apparently, they don’t mess with rattlesnakes in Costa Rica (or anywhere for that matter). They’re super fast and get annoyed easily, Ricardo told us.
There was something wrong with this one, though. It had either been attacked by a hawk or was ill. It wasn’t moving much. But we couldn’t just leave it there for the next group, so after contemplating our next move, Ricardo and I used a combination of long sticks and broken branches to slide it down the hillside well away from the trail.
We were all sweating now. We finished the rest of the single track section and began the hot slog back to town. There was more traffic now than at 7 a.m. when we started. But I noticed that the winds were blowing offshore.
“The surf is gonna be good,” Ricordo said.
Right on time, the maze of trails and dirt roads we were following popped out on the beach so I could get a good look at the surf. The swell was rolling in, perfectly organized, about 4-6 feet with the top of the waves being fluttered back by the warm offshore winds.
After dropping the bike, I sprinted to the hotel to grab my gear. I chose a little twin fin. Playa Guiones is no secret spot. The beachbreak spans for a mile or so in a gorgeous bay that has been surfed for years. Sort of like a San Onofre with a little more oomph, but a gathering place, nonetheless.
I found a rip and quickly made it out to the lineup, which was spread up and down the beach. I paddled into my first wave and knew it was going to be a fantastic day. The face held open with the offshore perfection (not too much wind where it’s tough to get in) and I pumped down the line, building speed before cutting back. The next section stood up for a lovely little top turn and it was on!
Wave after wave – it was one of those sessions where you’re not sure if you should leave the water because you never know if it’s going to be like this again for the rest of trip. Finally, three hours later, extremely sun burnt, wind whipped and with arms that felt like wet noodles, I set my board outside my room.
“That was an insane day,” I tell Jenelle.
Tell me if I’m wrong, but does a cold beer ever taste better than after a hard day of play, especially in salt water? We sipped a cocktail on the Iguana’s lovely patio restaurant, which has a courtyard feel to it as tables stretch out onto the lawn. It’s in the heart of Playa Guiones, one of several villages that comprise the Nosara district on the Nicoya Peninsula.
The menu is excellent, with a robust appetizer selection anchored by two types of fresh ceviche. The fish is as expected: fresh and tender (the Caribbean ceviche was my favorite).
Nothing about the food disappoints (the seared tuna and strip steak were favorites) and even the smash burger is a treat.
The next day, we ventured out with Steven and Aldair, two surf guides for the Gilded Iguana – which also owns a ridiculously cool board club near the beach where guests and non-guests alike store boards and can chill before or after a session. It’s surf luxury on another level. I brought my own gear so I skipped the borrow this time.
We wanted to see some of the other black-sand beaches around the area that were rumored to have good surf. The whole region is ripe with good waves.
The surf had come down overnight, but we still found a beachbreak to nab a few waves. Steven and Aldair were fun to watch in their home breaks. Aldair scored a sweet little cover up before a throwaway air while Steven made a few stylish turns on his backhand. On the way back in the cab – after an adventure strapping our boards to the top – they gave us insights into the countryside where they grew up. Along the bumpy dirt road, open meadows of marshy grass spread back to the tree line in every direction and the farmland looked so fertile. This truly is a pristine part of the world.
Back at the Gilded Iguana, Jenelle tried every luxury option available – from massage to yoga and a variety of spa treatments. She’d never been pampered like this. Our travel usually consists of decidedly rougher accommodations, which this was not.
I’m not much for the pampering. I had everything I needed: good waves, a cold beer, and a fine bowl of ceviche.
Learn more about Nosara and the Gilded Iguana here. And look for more adventure stories from The Inertia as we enter the heart of the North American surf travel season.
