Sabbath Afternoon Activities

OK, here it is; the adrenalin-charged covert mission of . . Rambo . . . and our
Costa Rican jungle insertion. It was Saturday morning, and we had slept in late.
Pedro and Suzy, the daughter and son-in-law of Oscar Newball, Sr., had already left for church.
We, . . . well, we needed a day off to rest and gather our thoughts-- gather
our thoughts; we are three guys restless for adventure and Kaos. We lay in
our beds and contemplated our options. I decided to watch my mini-DV
movies, the ones of the past several months. Sabbath morning--what better
time to reflect on what we've done and accomplished.

The three of us watched DVDs for a couple of hours. Then, out of thin air, it came to
me--John J. Rambo! We would venture off into the jungle along the ravine,
down into the gorge, and follow the river up to the waterfalls. We would
challenge the terrain, test our will to conquer, and survive! We would be as
Rambo, challenging the land and ourselves in a test of strength, a shot
into the dark to find our inner beast! To unleash the hidden fury that
toils at our spirit, that motivates our hearts to beat, that simulates
every muscle and thought in our body–the true nature of Kaos, the fuel
that feeds a man such as Rambo!

We first had to prepare for our excursion.
I retrieved my black military fatigues from my duffle, along with my black
bandana and black wife-beater. I dressed and was ready for combat.
As I stood waiting I flexed my tensed muscles, feeling the energy pulse
rapidly through my veins. I was ready! Jared was prepared, too.
He donned his wild-ass jeans and grey T-shirt. It may sound simple, but
when you see his sculpted body cloaked with the rugged wear of the worn
denim and tarnished shirt, all you comprehend is sheer awe and respect for
the ravaging beast that stands before you. It is definitely a site that deserves reverence!
Ryan was well dressed for the occasion. Wild-ass pants in a dark blue denim, black
cotton T-shirt, well-fitted of course, and a red bandana rolled and wrapped
around his forehead like mine; his hair pulled over and knotted in the
back. We were ready.

The air around us drifted softly, warm with speed and urging us to venture fort with no remorse.
The day had passed quickly; it was almost two in the afternoon. This didn't
matter to us though. If need be, we would spend the night out in the
wilderness; it would be just one more way for us to test our bodies, to see how
determined we were to conquer the landscape before us.

We set out, machetes in hand and ready for war--war with the deep jungle, a
jungle so steep and dense that it could easily temp you into climbing down
into it and then never let you out of its belly to see daylight again. Like
Jonah and his captor, the whale. If our intentions were selfish and our
hearts impure, it would swallow us whole, leaving us to roll around in its
putrid bile! Yet as unforgiving as this jungle sounds we were still pumped
on what was about to unfold. Jared, when he had been in Costa Rica eight
years earlier, had attempted this same adventure. His effort met with both
success and failure. He had been able to negotiate the steep walls of the canyon
down to the stream without too great a struggle, but the waterfall was too much;
it was impassable. It rejected his efforts and sent him away like a little child begging
its mother for a bag of candy. Now he was determined to challenge it again,
to test his skills once more. He would defeat the mocking water.
It was a challenge that I was ready to join. I too wanted to try my hand at the raging
water, the slick and jagged rocks, and most of all, the dense, entangling vines
and underbrush of the steep canyon walls. The challenge was on, and we all
were stoked at the opportunity. We headed for the top of the mountain.

-Side note-
The Newballs live nearly at the top of one of the largest peaks here
outside of Cartago. The mountain's elevation is a little more than 6,000 feet.

After leaving the main house we passed through a gate in a fence. The gate was like
what one might imagine as the one to the apostle Paul'sdungeon--rusty and hanging
from a stone pillar aging with moss and weathered earth. It was simply fashioned,
but served its purpose–to deter the weak of heart from entering the wilderness beyond.
That wilderness that could hold an unsuspecting man's fate deep in its buried roots,
like a viper coiled in the moist leaves, waiting for its victim to stumble in and to be
consumed without warning. The gate stood there simple and strong, like a warning
etched in stone, carried through the ages only to be forgotten and left in the past as
a fable once told to little children to deter them from delinquency. We climbed the hill.
The scale of the incline was staggering, but once the jungle slipped up along its side and
the crest was near, we found our opening.

It was a narrow gap in the dense brush, a “rodent trail,” as Jared had labeled it.
A rodent trial it might be, but it was all the opening we needed to gain access to
the stream below and the ever-taunting challenge of the waterfall and its soft, sly murmur.

Down the trail we advanced, machetes slashing and chopping as we dropped into the belly
of undergrowth. It was stimulating to be in such a different world. We had traveled
less than a half mile, and now we were in a dense jungle whereas the farm we had
left consisted of a grassy meadow with clumps of trees here and there.
The terrain had changed as well. Before, while climbing the hill, the incline was great;
now as we descended into the gorge, the fall was insane! The ground being so steep could barely
support our weight. We progressed downward via roots and trees, and even using the
wild bamboo like a rope to lower ourselves deeper towards the water below.
An error here would surely bring disaster. We made it down to the water without
any significant problems. However, the last fifteen or so feet to the tamer ground
below was a quick ride for me. I slipped, fell on my butt and road the earth
like a natural slide to the floor below. No injuries, just a quick exhilarating rush,
just what I needed to spike that invincible feeling that comes with floating gently
over a unseen challenge with grace and character. To be unfazed by the
presence of danger, to have utter confidence in yourself, to understand
that you are in control. Maybe not. I had never planned on slipping in the
first place. It wasn't nearly as dramatic as I have made it out to be, but it was a
definite confidence booster.

We hiked up the stream, over the rocks and boulders,
pouncing like jungle cats from rock to rock, slipping in and out between the fallen trees,
through the vines with elegance, and up the gorge like a pack of
wolves stalking an injured deer. We moved with speed, our feet sure and
grounded firmly with each step; there were no stumbles, only pure momentum
and accuracy. We were as Rambo, strong and sure of our mission; no exception,
we must move forward. A waterfall. It was small, yet presented many challenging points.
There was a pool at the foot of it. Not deep, but still large enough to hold us at
bay. We could not go around, for at the waterfall the walls of the gorge
came in close and were of sheer rock stretching upwards for more than
thirty feet to the canopy above. The waterfall consisted of two small water
falls. Each one was twelve to fifteen feet tall. The bottom one had a large
log perched on it. It was like a ladder reaching up to the second pool.
Problem, the log was on the other side of the pool, completely out of
reach. We needed a bridge to reach it. Using the machetes we cut down
several large branches and fashioned a crude bridge. Jared and Ryan crossed
quickly, but because of the bridge's crudeness their boots became soaked and
laden with water. I, feeling up for a challenge and being in the mood to
test my physical limits, decided to scale one of the waterfall's rock faces
up and around to the second pool. This meant I would have to climb over the
first pool, hanging above its cool water, then upward to the second pool
twelve feet higher. It was a definite challenge, for I am not a rock
climber. I have in the past, prior to high school, done some bouldering,
but nothing involving a free climb over water on a slick moss and earth
covered crag. It was going to be an interesting maneuver. I took my first hold;
it was strong and solid. I progressed across the face, hold by hold, slowly working
my way around the pool. It seemed easy, but as I neared the top, almost level
with the second pool I found myself in a predicament. I was quite high above
the water and rocks below, well quite high for a free climb without bouldering mats,
and out of secure holds while perched on a small ledge. The departure point of my climb was
only a few feet away, but it meant I would have to pull close to the face
and stretch out for it, while relying on my single good handhold and
delicate foot position. I gathered my courage and edged out towards my
destination. I found solid ground; transferred my body, and stood tall. I
was entangled with the feeling of utter amazement at what I had just
accomplished. To some it may seem small and insignificant, but for me, a
person who has been living a fairly conservative life for the past few
years, this was like being the first person to step foot on the moon. Yes,
my life has been fairly conservative in the way of a extreme risks without
the security of a backup plan of safety devices.

The second pool was even more challenging.
This part of the waterfall came down a steep trough. To either side there were still the
high canyon walls, only these were covered with moss and loose dirt, as well without any
form of ledges or holds. They were impassable. The only way up was to
immerse myself in the waterfall and climb up the trough via the carved
ledges and cracks chiseled into the rock. The problem was, it meant getting
soaked, as well as putting myself at the mercy of the slick rock buried
below the waters torment. Now looking back at this situation I think I
should have named this Mission Impossible. Anyway, moving forward.
Jared was the first to attempt the climb. He crossed the small pool and
over to the trough. Found his first secure hold and moved his body into
position. From there he edged his limbs forward, taking time to test each
hold for integrity. Unfazed by the water rushing over his hands and feet,
the water trying ever so hard to break him, to pry his locked fingers from
their grasp on the grey water beaten path he was maneuvering so delicately
up. Jared is a pro; he is so smooth with his movements, like Stallone in
“Cliff Hanger,” his moves are precise and straight forward. There is no
joking when it comes to his climbing skills. Jared made it to the top and released
the challenge to me. For me, I was ready for it. I had just scaled the first
waterfall successfully, and now was ready for a new test. I quickly assumed
the position for accent and attacked the trail. It was difficult, but with vision
and decisive moves I made my way up the waterfall. It was another
mind- and body-boosting experience.

To be able to conquer something difficult without flaw, to come from below
and stand over your adversary and look down on what you have accomplished; the feeling is
truly remarkable. It warms the heart, strengths the soul, and challenges
the mind to explore further into what seems impossible. Ryan followed suit
with just as much ease as the two of us. You may think it is ridiculous
that these seemingly small feats should bring so much testosterone and
egocentric passion to our hearts, but if you were in the dense jungle,
driven by the fuel of Rambo part I, II, & III, you would also be on fire;
burning ablaze with such intense fury you subconsciously think you might
spontaneously combust into a ball of fire.

From there we moved twenty yards up stream, only to be stopped by a third waterfall.
This waterfall was at least sixty feet high. It reminded me of the one in Yosemite National park,
high, pouring out between the rock crashing to the boulders below.
This waterfall gave us no option of passing. The walls surrounding the
waterfall were just as high, creating what felt like a soup can effect.
The basin was cylinder shaped and smooth; as stated, there was no way forward .
We had to return down the previous two waterfalls.

The journey down was twice as hard as going up. As you lower yourself down
through the raging water you can't see the ledges and holds below. You are
completely blind to which step comes next, where the safest hold is to
latch onto. Its like being in the dark, high up in a circus tent, standing on
a platform, waiting for the swinging trapeze, only to jump out in faith
that it will be there ready for you to grab, then swinging you out into the
darkness. The feeling is truly unnerving. You stand at the top of the
trough on this wedged rock, lower your feet and legs down into the torrent,
wrap your hands tightly around the wedged rock, feel around below for a
secure ledge, while being soaked head to toe in the whitewater. Then with
the secure ledge acquired releasing a single hand to feel directly behind
you along the wall searching for a hold strong enough to support your
weight. It's quite the challenge, but we were successful. The only really
difficult part is departing from the last ledge. There you have to stand on
the lip of the trough and jump out across the pool to a boulder. Its only a
span of five feet or so, but if you slip or miss the boulder your up to you
waist in water. Needless to say, we missed and slipped. No injuries, just a
couple of big splashes and laughs of utter foolishness.

From there we climbed down the large log and jumped across the pool, no need for the bridge; it had
already fallen apart and become completely useless. You would think that we
would give up now and climb out of the gorge. Nope, we're not to be discouraged
by the waterfall's rejection. Our blood was surging, our hearts free, and our
spirits begging for more adventure. There was always a downstream,
and we were ready for more exploration. We took off downstream.
Once again we were darting here and there, like minnows in a slowly
meandering stream, fast and spontaneous were our footsteps over the
strewn rocks and sandbars. Rarely did you hear a splash
from a misguided step, our feet were sure and constant, pulsing with that
burning desire to explore this tantalizing landscape. We came upon several
more waterfalls; this time, though, since we were traveling downstream, it meant
that we would have to lower ourselves down them, rather than try to climb.

Remember, the process of going down is a lot
more frightening than going up; it's like at night doing sixty down a
mountain road, no lights, no moon, just faith that you'll be able to
hopefully see the upcoming turn before you've plummeted over the edge,
falling to what seems to be a certain death below. Luckily for me the
reality of certain death below is a bit far fetched. I did fall. I slid on
my butt down one waterfall for eight feet or so, only to plunge into a the
cool waters of the awaiting pool below. It was at that point Ryan and Jared
informed me that I was now the wettest one in the group. “Thanks,” I
replied, sitting on my bottom in a pool of water up to my shoulders.

Still traveling onward, we followed the water to yet another waterfall. Just
like the first, it was a two-stage waterfall. This one, however, since the
approach was being made from upstream, lacked the high walls. With this
one you would be descending down into the canyon. There was one way in.
You had to make your way across the outside rim of
the canyon, along the rock ledges of the wall, then up and down a rodent
trail leading through and around the brush, only to hold onto a bamboo rod
and lower yourself the last ten feet into the basin of the second
waterfall of the series. Easy enough on paper, difficult in person. Ryan,
forgetting to leave his wallet behind, decided to try and make his way
through the undergrowth up the steep loose walls of the gorge. He was more
or less going to have to cut his way out of the gorge, making sure not to
cut too much away in order to leave roots and things to use as steps and
holds along the way. It was going to be a difficult task, for the point at
which the gorge became a bit tamer was at least 50 yards, straight up. Jared
and I, well we continued forward. The descent was fun; it was a bit sketchy
climbing through the brush on the rodent trail, clinging onto roots while watching
the soil push out from under you, tumbling down to the water below, but non the less fun.
Lowering yourself on the bamboo; I don't know if it is the real kind of bamboo or
not, it had multiple small sharp spikes coming out from every knot. The
spikes made it very difficult to lower; if you were not careful you would
cut yourself on the spikes... not the most pleasant thing. Anyway, so we
made it to the bottom of yet another waterfall, only to be stopped yet
again.

Not more than fifteen yards past the waterfall was the big one, the
waterfall that had stopped Jared eight years earlier. This one was huge. It
was at least eighty feet high, with sheer rock faces extending to either
side. Then to top it off, this was the deepest and steepest part of the
gorge. The walls extending from below the waterfall were impassable to
travelers. The only way around was to climb up to the outer rim of the
gorge and travel a quarter mile or so below the fall, to a point where the
walls of the gorge decreased in intensity and became a bit more friendly.
Jared and I decided to head back up the just descended waterfall and find
another area to explore. On the return up the waterfall I decided to try a different
more difficult route. I decide to instead of climbing up the spiky bamboo pool, I would
climb the rock face of the lower waterfall. Around the pool, up its side,
then go across its face via a fallen log. Fun, no problem. With some quick
moves, a couple of over-and-under hand gestures, I was on the log and ready to
cross. Whoops! the log was green with slippery slime. I almost fell down
into the pool below. No worries though. Jared however decided the bamboo
was the route for him, and he was waiting on the other side of the log for me.

The next challenge was the rodent trail. We clambered up it, back
though the brush, floating with ease; but this time, discouraged with the
denial of passage by the grand waterfall and the looming walls of the gorge I
sought adventure. I turned to Jared and asked him what time he wanted to
get back to the farm in the morning. He looked at me puzzled. I asked the
question again and then turned to look up a narrow gap in the short rocky
face. Jared looked back at me and said eight sounded all right. I yelled at
Ryan, who was still cutting his trail up the side of the gorge, telling him
that Jared and I were going to climb the other side of the gorge and for
him to meet us a half mile downstream. I don't know if he got all that
through the thick undergrowth, but whatever, we would meet up somehow.
I lead the expedition up the crack, well, we only got a few yards. The
crack was just wide enough for you to wedge your body inside, then using
your back and feet kind of crab walk climb your way up. The problem was the
rock was very loose and covered with soil. This made it incredibly
difficult and risky. After a few struggled attempts I gave up. Jared and I
dropped back down to the pool of the upper waterfall and prepared to ascend
its walls to the top. Still being discouraged by the giant waterfall I
sought the more difficult route. If you ask my parents, they would say this
is typical of me. I always have to do it the hard way, they would say.
Anyway, the difficult way meant that once again I would have to do some
rock climbing, endure some raging water, and tempt my fate on the slippery
grey slime covered rocks of this waterfall. I was up for it though.
I started up the face. I made it about six feet, then lost my footing on one
of the ledges and fell down into the pool below. I banged my right hand
pretty bad on a rock on the way down, but other than that I was fine. My
hand was just a little sore, but the cool calming water soothed its aching
rather quickly. I, being quite stubborn, tried the climb once more. This time
I took my time, tested every hold and ledge first, and plotted my line of
ascent carefully. Jared was already at the top and coached me most of the
way up. Once again it was a fulfilling experience to conquer yet another
treacherous rock face.

From there, Jared and I quickly climbed up Ryan's
freshly forged trail. It was steep, but there was enough solid ground to
make our way out of the gorge. On the way out, there was a strand of rusty
barbed wire camouflaged in the foliage. It jumped up and bit the backside of
my left calf; “Ouch, that'll leave a mark.”

---Ok, its time for me to get to bed.
Its 3:23am, I have consumed seven cups of coffee, the instant kind, not the good,
fresh kind. Tomorrow I must rise early and start on the block-laying first thing,
for we have to make a border run early-early on Thursday morning to renew our visas.
Goodnight ?zzz. Ok, I'm back from laying block. We are finished and have laid a total of
1050 block and poured 130 feet of footers. It took us four days to complete
the project, working as a three man team. I am quite impressed with our
efficiency and ability to work so hard and consistent on this enduring
project.

Well, we had just topped the rim of the gorge and now had to climb out of
the remaining dense jungle surroundings. We followed a rodent trail out to
the scrubgrass- covered hill. The hill was like a giant bowl. It was very
steep and wrapped around like the end of a shovel. We staggered up the
hill slowly, for our energy was slowly leaving us. Once we reached the
summit we sat and rested. From the top you could see San Jose and Cartago
clearly across the open expanse of the valley below. The day was still
clear, just a few light floating clouds off on the distant horizon. A
gentle breeze swept by setting our bodies at peace.

As we sat there we talked of Rambo, and those before him that carried his same
awe-capturing traits. We talked of Samson. Samson was to us the original Rambo.
He was strong, respected, and feared. A true warrior. We also chatted about David
and Goliath, and Solomon and his great wisdom. It was a time to reverently
examine how God has led His people throughout the earth; through the dense
jungles, over the high mountains, and trekking across barren deserts. It
was good to spend time basking in the sun, imagining the past, growing
inward in preparation for the future.

The time had come for us to move once more down into the gorge below.
We moved further across the ridge, then at a new clearing we dropped down to
the jungle's edge. We found another rodent trail and entered the jungle's realm.
This time we found an easier descent to the water below.

Once reaching the water we headed down stream to see if we could find the top of
the first impassable waterfall. After bounding through the rocks and
boulders for ten minutes or so we came to the top of the waterfall. The
sight looking down was awesome. We could see where we had first climbed up
into the soup can basin; we could see from a completely different view the
true difficulty we would have encountered if we had actually tried to climb its face.
There was no way we would have ever been able to make it to the
top without running into major problems and bodily injuries. I am glad we
didn't attempt that insane climb.

From there we turned around and sprinted upstream once again. At this point it
almost turned into a game of race the leader. We were jumping, bounding,
and leaping from rock to rock, dodging the waters depths below.
Occasionally someone would miss and get wet, but with a single step he
would be back on his feet and striding forward once again. It was fun. No
one really followed anyone else. Each person would choose his own path,
then try to quicken his step in order to overtake the leader's position and
then lead for himself. It was great. One person, when approaching a pool,
would take the left along the bank, another climb over a few boulders, then
run along a sandbar; still someone else would daringly just run and jump
as far as he could, hoping to land on the other side without falling or
splashing in the pool. It was an exhilarating race up the gorge.

After traveling up the gorge for a half mile or so we came to a point where
the stream split into two. At this point we decided that we had had enough.
The water at this point had become very polluted. There were plastic bags,
cans, jugs, tires, and all other sorts of debris strewn all across the
stream basin. It was as beginning to smell quite nasty. The journey
had ended. We found two large fallen trees and perched ourselves on their
trunks. We sat there and talked of the people back home, the pilgrimage
ahead, and the future of our journey.

We sat there for a half hour or so just chatting about anything and everything.
It was a good bonding experience for us, but we grew tired of the stench lingering
throughout the air, so we left and headed down stream again. Once again we
played race the leader. I was still in Rambo mode. As I would
approach a pool or small drop I would jump out across it as far as I could,
hoping to land securely on the other side. The first time I attempted it I
came up short and became soaked once again. Whatever, it was thrilling to
leap and bound over and around the obstacles trying to detour our progress.  
I was having a blast, as were the other guys. We found the trail we had
forged down the gorge's wall above the waterfall and quickly climbed out of
its belly. It was time to head back to the farm. It was getting towards
sunset and we were starving. We hadn't eaten yet, and our stomachs were
growling for food. While Jared and I were contemplating our ascent up the
gorge's far wall, Ryan set off to cut his trail out of the gorge.

We talked about what we were going to eat when we got
back. Jared had mentioned earlier that he loved pancakes. Since at
that point we were looking at possibly returning to the farm in the
morning, we had decided we would have pancakes for breakfast. Well, we had
pancakes anyway, but instead of being for breakfast we had them for
supper. I had seen a new bag of Krusties pancake mix. Ummm Fresh pancakes
with Skippy peanut butter and syrup. It was good and we were tired.

We went to the Internet, rented the movie “Cliff Hanger,” came home, viewed the film
and went to bed. All was good in the Kaos Camp. Our Sabbath afternoon had
been full of wonder and intrigue, a true blessing!

Some may be concerned with our outings. Why? Some may think our mission is a joyride,
a waste of money and energy, and a waste a time that could be spent getting a formal education
from an Adventist college. Well, you might be right, but for us we are compeled
by the Holy Spirit to venture out into the wilderness in search of our God.

Moses fled Egypt in fear, his fear was then heightened and transformed into
a greater fear for his God; our God. It is not an ego trip, it's not to see how
extreme we can get before falling off the edge. It's about exploring this beautiful world that
our sovereign Lord created for us in just seven days. A week that He
designed for us to labor hard and bless others, but then to take off on the
Sabbath, to enjoy all that He has given us, to seek His face, to understand
who He is. Our God is an Awesome God! Truly a marvelous Creator. One that
is not simple and plain, but one who has a perfect design, and is full of
humor and passion.

It is through this journey of blessing others that I have truly become aware of His day-to-day
presence in the world that so many quickly and franticly run though. Life is short.
Why not live it to its fullest, enjoying all that God has blessed us with. Don't scoff at those who
challenge themselves to explore; applaud them for their courage and support
them even in their failures. Satan wants us to sit idle; it gives him a
chance to work over our hearts and turn them cold. An active heart will
always have hot fresh blood pumping through its body. Let the Holy Spirit
move you into exploring your God, your world, and His everlasting love for
you and me.

Rambo--It's just a great motivating series of movies to watch. Us guys down
here really get a kick out of watching the movies over and over again. I
think we have watched the series three or four times in the last six weeks.
It's lame I know, but there is something about the way he stands tall in the
face of a challenge. It's a reassuring way a of building our confidence. There
are moments when we get in a bit of a bind, and Jared pops up and says,
“What would Rambo do?” Its a joke more or less, but its hilarious when he
stands their tensed all beastified, ready to challenge anything. Whatever,
Jared's a character, and I am so glad he can get so pumped up, its contagious.

Enough, I'm tired of writing.