kellita the señorita the ibby dibby dow: Journey to the White Beach

Yesterday was like a Bike & Build day. I have wanted to ride a bike for weeks, missing Nina Peentz and my huge quads. When I saw the bike rental sign at the hostel in Pucon, I knew it was time to make my return to the biking world. I recruited Joana, who also jumped off the bus to stay a few days here. I owe her an apology for my previous post as she was the loud-talker on the bus, and now one of my favorite travel buddies.

Jeff and Peter, who work at the hostel suggested we make the trek to La Playa Blanca. Most of the beaches around here are black volcanic-sand beaches. All beautiful, all scorching hot. The guys sold the ride like it was a walk in the park. I was so happy to have my ass in the saddle and just excitedly rode around the garden in circles. With questionable directions and a map, we were on our way.

The ride started off on a paved bike path along a busy road. After 20 minutes we turned off to follow a dirt path the rest of the way. As we rode further, the hills got bigger, and my legs reminded me that we’re not in bike shape like we once were. But the scenery was amazing, and soon distracted me from the pain. Every third word out of my mouth was "this is beautiful" or "amazing" or a high school-favorite, "unreal". We rode up and down the hills, me explaining the simple joy of the yellow down-hill signs. The guys told us it would take an hour or so to reach the beach, and we feared we were lost after an hour and a half when we still hadn’t reached any of their mapped landmarks. We stopped and asked local for help, and were excited to find we were on the right track. One thing you learn in Chile is that when someone tells you something is “right around the corner”, “will only take an hour”, or is “only one block away”, it usually means it’s at least three times as far or long and they just don’t want to break the news. So you learn not to get your hopes up that you’re “really close”.

We reached the entrance for Ojos del Caburgo, triplet waterfalls 15 minutes later. After admiring the picturesque falls, we sat at a shady picnic table for some lunch. Thank heavens for my B&B experiences. I have learned never to go on a bike ride without food provisions. We would have died otherwise. Continuing on for another hour, we finally reached the beach, high-fiving and hollering until we realized it was filled with black sand. Turned out the white beach we were seeking was up another giant hill and then some. Determined, we finished the ride, collapsing in relief and triumph into the coveted white sand.

Two hours later it dawned on us that we had to make the return voyage. Thankfully it was shorter, and Jeff and Peter were right about it being mostly downhill. Too bad the wind didn’t get the message that we were exhausted. Riding into the wind made the dissent a slow and soul-crushing one. I was for sure bonking by the end of it.

Last night we met the new Pachamama crew. They were drunk and rowdy, and Jo and I aren’t sure how we feel about them. Guess we’ll find out for sure when we jump on their bus tomorrow. Today I have done nothing but eat a cheeseburger for lunch, and try to nap in a hammock, lawn chair, grass, my bed and the beach.