We are currently exploring the deep south of Costa Rica and each afternoon last week it dumped buckets on us. It has not fazed us as we hide out in our mobile base camp or hostel common areas leeching wifi and cafe gratis. The mornings are always clear and we are sure to seek adventure but find our way home before lunch. The evenings are a damp break from the oppressive heat. The downpour reinforces our repetitive dogma for overlanding: there is no perfect time. Just like five o’clock, it’s raining somewhere too, and coincidentally, both are great excuses for a sundowner.
The camper, however, is not pleased. Before leaving California I spent a Saturday coating every seam with sealant, sparing no sealant as I opted for function over beauty. Despite this, we’re getting some water intrusion on the top front awning. I have crawled around the roof looking for any imperfections and it looks solid. I have even sought out answers online, but have been warned this is an inevitable perk in the wood-framed club.
And then there are the roads. We have made it a point to get well off the beaten path in Costa Rica. In the weeks since leaving Tamarindo we have zigzagged between the mountains and the Pacific, getting deeper with each destination. Costa Rica is a small country, only about half the size of Kentucky, but the winding dirt roads give the impression of a vast nation. The paved roads are so riddled with potholes we are actually pleased when the pavement ends.
We may be a little wet but we are far from weary.