Catching a bus to Managua- video

Climbing San Cristobal

Our pursuit of the mountain began on Wednesday, April the 22nd with a 3 hour, 2 bus journey from Granada to Leon via Managua. Once arriving into the rather hot and muggy city, we roamed the streets in search of a travel guide to gather information and make arrangements for our trek to the active volcano, San Cristobal. After an hour or so of walking and making contacts, we finally found a company- Tierra Tours- that could arrange our trip within our specific time constraints. We were due back in Granada on Friday, and could only dedicate Thursday as our expedition day. Tierra Tours agreed to our terms and quickly made arrangements to pick us up at our hotel the following morning at 5am. It would be a full day of travelling and climbing and an early start was imperative.





At 4:58am our driver and guide rang us at our hotel. It was an hour’s drive to Chinandega, then another hour deep into back country where we finally parked at a coffee plantation at the base of San Cristobal. The road leading back into the jungle was passable only by a 4x4 vehicle or by horseback. It was a slow, tedious and sometimes treacherous drive. Once arriving at the volcano’s base, we were met by a second guide: a local coffee farmer who didn’t speak a bit of English, but possessed the practical and essential knowledge that would get us to the top safely, and provide us with a rich historical and geographical understanding of the views we would see and the country we would experience. We would be hiking up the western side of the volcano.


The climb initially started through dense jungle. While the 5725 foot volcano loomed above us, we trekked through a forest of densely green foliage and luscious tropical plants and trees of every sort. We passed avocado, banana, mango and cashew trees to name a few. We were introduced to many fruits and species of plants that were completely new to us.


Once we passed the timberline, the topography quickly and drastically changed. Where we once enjoyed the colorful and luscious canopy of the jungle, a hellish, and deathly and scorched earth only remained. The soil was a mixture of loose dirt, ash and crushed lava rock. Periodically, petrified looking tree limbs would rudely project themselves from the inhospitable soil. These wooden protrusions would prove themselves helpful as we would crawl and clasp our way up the 40 to 45 degree slopes. Claiming ground would prove itself difficult. We’d step up 2 feet, only to slide back down 4. It was a constant struggle gaining ground. The mountain’s steep slope and gravity was always working against us. If the anaerobic workout wasn’t enough, keeping the necessary oxygen levels in the body was too a struggle. While climbing 5000 feet on loose gravel can be a hardship within itself, introducing frequent plumes of sulfurous gas made breathing a struggle. The smell of sulfur gas is best likened to overcooked, hard boil eggs. But it wasn’t the smell that would get you. It was your lungs that would start burning after sucking in the toxic air after 1000 feet of climbing. Out of necessity we’d sometimes have to cover our mouths with bandanas. Yes we’d filter out the gas, but we would also constrict our breathing. I guess it was good training for future high altitude mountaineering.


After 2 & ½ hours of crawling and clawing our way up the slope, we finally made it. The view from the summit was spectacular. The eastern view was obstructed by volcanic gas, be we could see thousands of acres of rice fields, and bean and coffee farms on all other sides. We could see natural mud baths and mile after mile of dense jungle. The ocean was in view 50 kilometers to the west. From our vantage point we also were afforded the sight of some of Nicaragua’s other volcanoes, such as Chonco, Casita and Tellica. We weren’t standing on top of the world by any stretch of the imagination. But, we had reached the tallest peak in the country of Nicaragua. We had pursued the mountain, suffered its hardships, and reached its unwelcoming but rewarding summit. Mission accomplished.

Crash Highlights: Paris-Roubaix 2009

Homage to all the Fixed Geared Brothers Out There.

The Machine

The 73 Mile Experiment

I’ve signed up to ride this year’s Grizzly Peaks Metric Century. It is an east bay ride that winds up and around the Oakland/Berkeley Hills, San Pablo Reservoir and Franklin Canyon. It is fantastically organized. And they topped it off with an incredible lunch of grilled chicken, eggplant, couscous, roasted vegetables and freezers stuffed with ice cream. Unfortunately, lunch will be the easiest part of the day.

The experiment is to see whether or not I’ll be sufficiently prepared to ride hard and at a fast pace when it comes down to game day. How much pain will my body be able to endure before it starts putting on the brakes? There is no question I can do it. 73 miles and 5700 feet of climbing is palatable enough. The question is how well will I do it? Will I be able to produce? Will my body give me everything I ask of it, or will it resist and ultimately give me the smack-down? Oh, Lordy!

If you were going to start preparing for a long ride, say 100 miles, most textbooks would put you on a training schedule where you would peak 2 weeks prior to event day. Unfortunately, due to an ill-timed 3 week vacation (I use the word “ill-timed” very loosely), I’ll be peaking 4 weeks prior to event day.

Though several of those weeks will include their fair share of over-indulgence and excess, I do plan to continue some sort of a workout program. For one, I’ll keep up my swimming and yoga. I’ll also throw in a few strenuous runs just for fun. To cap it off, I’ll be enduring a 12 hour, 6000 feet hike up Nicaragua’s largest volcano, San Cristobal. That should be hard, and fun.

Besides the healthy portions of double battered fried chicken, pulled pork and Nicaraguan rum, the time off my bike is what concerns me the most. Sure I’ll be able to maintain my current level of fitness, but nothing gets you more prepared for riding than riding itself. Forget muscles, it’s about getting your body used to a crouched position for 5 or 6 hours. Fortunately, on race day, I won’t be riding on streets maintained by the City of San Francisco, so my body should enjoy a break from having to suffer through broken asphalt, sink holes and 4 inch pot holes. That will make life a little easier.

So, if we happen to cross paths on that fateful day and you happen to see my face knitted in grimace and pain, it’s a good chance this little experiment failed. If it is a success, there is a good chance you won’t see me at all.

I’ll check back in. Keep in touch.