Bicycles, Buses and Barbed Wire

     I love riding bikes. The feeling of the sun and the wind on my face and the freedom
that comes with just riding around, no agenda. I remember when I was 10 and I learned to
ride without hands.  All around my block. Going uphill. Going downhill. All with my hands 
over my head, laughing straight from my gut.  Pure life.  At least it was until I did my second turn around the block and my tire caught some sand and I lost my balance and went 
flying over my bike and slid like a ballplayer, down the street. I got all scraped up and had bloody arms and legs.  I remember begging my mother to let me stay home. But she wasn't raising a sissy and so in spite of my embarrassment over my many wounds, I went to school and never stopped answering, "What happened?" all day long.  

     The bikes here are more like that one.  No hand brakes, no gears, ill fitting. The owner of this bike rides it to work and is in his early 30's. Here, you will see fathers riding with their children on the mainframe bar, old men carrying groceries and trash and young lads cruising the street by the beach. There are bikes for deliveries and bikes for young lovers. I think there are more bikes than taxis here and that says alot!  Just about everyone rides a bike here.

The odd thing is, you never see someone under 15 on a bike in town.  Just too dangerous!
     The danger comes from the buses and motos.  These buses are long enough to carry a country western band around.  They have just enough room to turn corners if there isn't a car sitting there!  They come zooming down a short street and then whip around the corner and turn into the bus lot. It is usually full, with 10 lined up waiting to load people and drive off

to San Jose or Panama or Tamarindo up north. One bus drives from the parking lot in Quepos to the beach area of Manuel Antonio.  It's .50 cents and takes about 15 minutes to get all the way to the end.  This bus is like a city bus in New York City.  You push a button when you need to get off and you can wait outside under any covered bus stop. The difference here is that the seats are covered in vinyl. They seem to have no limits as to the number of people that can stand in the middle and people are covered in sand! I don't mind riding the bus if I've got the time and who doesn't have time here? Buses start at 5:00 in the morning and you can spend all day trying to reach your destination, without the bathroom if you are one of the unlucky ones.
People wait on concrete benches, under metal a roof, and then que up 30 deep to board. 
It's the only way most Tico's can get from A to B and there will always be plenty of backpackers on board. 

     It's the bus and the moto, or souped up scooter, that will cause all the accidents. Both act as if they own the road and both are completely crazy on the road.  Think LA freeways meets autoban.  Occasionally one will see a woman driving but generally these are the James Dean's of Costa Rica.  They pass on the highway as if in an Indie 500 race, they load their mothers and wives and children on, many with only a bicycle helmet.  They are finding their thrill, no doubt, but at what risk?  These aren't the "motorcycle guys"  but the ones who moto about town and beyond searching for the great beyond.  
     I haven't ridden on any of these although I miss my bike. I'm too busy watching where I step in hopes I won't get run over by all this metal.