I was up late finishing an oil change and you know, the late-night buzz before a ride. I cannot imagine what it would be like the night before embarking on a ride much longer… like a week maybe… 0600: Ready. 0625: Waiting. An artsy shot of the weeds in front of my garage. By 0630 I was antsy and could not wait any more. I shot Mr. Juanca a SMS and left. By the time I reached the gas station in town to top off, I had gotten a call back. So we agreed to meet on the way out of town. I wait. 0744: Meet Juan Carlos. 550 Kms of seat time and counting. Now the show is on the road. High above the clouds peering into the Caribbean lowlands. If you are eating a banana as you read this, it is likely from down there. Rednecks… they are everywhere. In route to the missing bridge. We eventually cross paths with a young man playing gatekeeper at the top of the hill. He was playing hardball saying there is no way we can go through. It is only open from 1200-1300, blah, blah, blah. I politely requested to see and speak with his boss. The boy told me the boss was at the bottom of the hill. I must go find him. He must be down here somewhere. We never did find the boss, but bumped into these two peddlers. They were cool :stoned. I pushed to cross, but Juanca wasn’t feeling it . I can’t blame him seeing he hasn’t ridden even 1,100 Kms in his life and I am tossing him in a river, twenty feet from a waterfall. Also may not be the best idea to push on since the average speed today has been around 30 Kms/Hr and it rains in the afternoon this time of year. I do have the desire to return before the bridge is in and the coolest river crossing ever is washed away. We turn around, head back through Vara Blanca and turn towards Poasito. We are onto Plan B (see above map). 1015: We are in Poasito and hungry. After lunch we took off up to the entrance of Poas National Park. On our way back down, I signaled to Juan that we cut off onto a little gravel track I know of. He shrugged and I assumed it was an affirmative shrug. We leave the pavement. We eventually turned around to find our way back down into the Valley. Not without stopping for fresh strawberries first. We can hear thunder nearby and Juan seems peculiarly excited to be heading into a thunderstorm. We find the rain and stop. As Charlie commented above, when you are this close to home it is more of a pain to put on the rain gear. So we quickly stash phones and wallets in the trunk and continue on. We drove out of the storm and the roads were still dry when we made it to my house at 1330. Here is the damage: 102 Kms for the day, one-sixth of Juanca’s entire riding career. Stay safe and welcome to the asylum buddy.