Moonlit Madness

Since the very first time I visited Gualpatara, I had contended that we really needed to go back on a full moon in order to properly enjoy the surroundings. Despite being called crazy by 90% of the people I proposed this idea to, Stephanie was always in favor, so I knew we'd figure out a way to make it happen. Knowing it to be a fairly bad idea to go tramping through the Jungle in the middle of the night on our own, we recruited a few local friends to walk us out there and take care of any nasty creatures the wild might throw in our direction.

Having had a gran fiesta on Friday night, Saturday started fairly slowly, but with good weather. So, after finally Managing to leave the house in the early afternoon, Steph & I went up to the main house to do some "shopping" in the main kitchen and announce our intentions for the evening in case anyone else happened to be loco enough to join us. From there, we hiked across town through the barrios until we reached our friend's house where we had planned to cook some chicken to take with us. Unfortunately, said friend was on a mission when we arrived and could not be reached. A little perturbed by the delay, but still having a few hours of sunlight at our disposal, we hung out and played a few rounds of dominos until he arrived. At that point, he disappeared across the street with our chicken declaring that we would only prepare it then and cook it out at Gualpatara. A fair while later, we had rounded up the rest of the party, which grew well past our original intentions, but was still manageable, cut and par-boiled the chicken, collected a grill, hammocks, drinks and the like and were on our way back up the hill.

As we hiked through the barrios with all our equipment to cook and spend the night out, we got rather incredulous looks from most people we passed. A few knew various members of our party well enough to ask where we were headed, but not a single one believed the response. I should probably stop here to explain that only one of the 4 local boys we were with had ever camped out, and that one only because he'd spent nearly half his life living in the States. The rest had never even considered the idea. They were, however, very excited by the idea once it was proposed. In any case, after passing from one end of town to the other, we started up the steeper slopes and into the jungle. As we stepped off the last concrete pathway, we were immediately immersed in a trail of mud. The boys managed to proceed elegantly up the horrendously slippery slopes without seeming to pay much mind to their footing, but that was not the case for Stephanie and myself. For my part, I was concentrating thoroughly on every step attempting to avoid the mushiest of the mud patches. I managed to make it through fairly cleanly, but Stephanie didn't fair quite as well. 10 mins into the trip she was covered in mud up to her knees. Of course, that didn't slow her down in the least. She simply lost the shoes and kept on trucking.

We reached the crest of the hill just as the sun was sinking behind the distant ridges. As we hiked along the highest point for miles in every direction, we had an incredible view of all of Bluefields and the surrounding area. On one side, you could see the ocean, on the other, lush green jungle covering rolling hills for as far as you could see. As the sun sank lower and lower, dusk came on quickly. Just as the light was truly fading, we arrived at our destination. Being thoroughly sweaty and non too clean, Steph & I left the boys our flashlights and sent them off to find firewood while we clambered down the ridiculously steep, slippery rocks to reach the calm pool of water that had enticed us out in the first place. Jumping in, every step to get there was immediately worth while. We had the place entirely to ourselves, and it was pitch black at that point, so we took the liberty of removing our swimsuits and properly enjoying the cool touch of refreshing water against our skin.

As we were bathing, the boys managed to locate the candles and set them up along the path to light our way. Laying back in the water, we were greeted with a vision of twinkling spots of fire lining the rim of our secluded basin. It was magical.

Thoroughly refreshed, but feeling a little guilty for not helping set up camp, we started climbing out just as the skies opened up for the first time that day. Already soaked, we weren't bothered in the least. We did loose our beautifully lit path, but that was a small sacrifice to pay. Retrieving and donning our clothes, we climbed back out and greeted a few other volunteers who had decided to join us. Everyone else was slightly more concerned by the driving rain than either Stephanie or myself, but luckily it didn't last long enough to really become a problem. In fact, as the rain subsided, the clouds parted to reveal the rising moon in all her glory. A hush fell as we all turned to gaze upon this magnificent sight and took a moment to thoroughly enjoy where our lives had brought us.

As we turned back to reality, we had the difficult task of starting a fire in the now thoroughly drenched surroundings. Not to worry, this is a typical problem in much of Nicaragua; wet wood, wet ground, difficult to light a fire. Their solution? Plastic. The boys proceeded to burn plastic bags so they would drip onto the wood, causing it to burn slowly and hence dry out enough to light. Kinda brilliant when you don't have any pine sap handy. In almost no time at all, we had a fire going and chicken on the grill.

We passed the next hour or so watching our food cook while we listed to live music courtesy of our musician friend who had carried his guitar all the out specifically for the occasion. It was wonderful.

Then the rains came again.

That made us wet.

But, the chicken wasn't done yet, and no one really wanted to go anywhere, so we passed around a bottle of the cheapest alcohol in town and worked on keeping the fire as dry as possible. As the rain subsided, the odors of the chicken became truly overwhelming and we decided to dig in. It was delicious. M had come through once more with his skills as a chef and we had succulently slow roasted chicken with a touch of flame broiled flavor. MmmmMmmm Good!

Thoroughly satiated, but with plans to spend the rest of the night there, M directed others to gather more wood and fetch some water from the spring for the second course. This was to be a chicken soup, which we set to simmer as soon as the water arrived and veggies had been chopped.

Then it rained again.

And we got wet again.

Throughout which, the moon played hide and seek behind the clouds, only coming out in full force when the rain halted. This time for good. With a clear sky and full moon, it was if the noonday sun was shinning. You could see clear across the valley where the leaves were bathed in pale blue light and the trees shimmered as they played in the breeze.

By the time the soup was ready, we were starting to get a little chilly, considering we were all soaked several times over. Warming up with chicken soup couldn't have been more perfect. Once that was gone, we saw more ominous clouds headed in our direction and hence decided we might have to call off the plan for spending the night. Packing up our soggy belongings, we struck out again down the path that had officially become a river of mud. Nearly loosing my shoes in the first 5 steps, I quickly ditched them in favor of walking barefoot through the squishy brown mud.

We hiked out by the light of the moon, only switching our headlamps on when we passed through a dense patch of vine covered trees. By the time we reached civilization, we were all covered in mud, but far too enamored by our experience to care. Walking through the nearly deserted streets we made our way quietly back home. After washing off our mud-caked legs, we settled in and called it a night. And what an incredible night it was.