Climbing Volcanos

A few years ago, I decided to celebrate my birthday by pushing myself (rather violently) out of my comfort zone. I travel solo all the time but I don't enjoy adventure travel by myself. What if I get hurt? What if I get killed and nobody's there to report it? I swept past these fears and headed to Costa Rica, where I zip-lined through the rain forest and climbed Central America's most active volcano, Arenal.

From a distance, I could see lava spurting. The signs warning of the danger and entering at your own risk, got bigger and bigger as I marched closer to the volcano. It was raining and the rocks were slippery. My binoculars kept fogging up but it didn't obscure the glory of Arenal. I climbed close enough to stare at the ash creeping down crevices. Arenal rises about 1633 meters above sea level. It was like gazing at Mt. Olympus.

Afterwards, I visited the hot springs at the foot of Arenal, in Tabacon Grand Spa Thermal Resort. It's one of those tourist-filled, five-star hotels that I usually avoid but I wanted to float in the hot springs. Immersing myself in the water felt like being embraced by a liquid sun. It was thick and hot and wonderful. They served a four-course meal at Tabacon that I don't remember because about three hours later, I was sick from a parasite. I was throwing up in my hotel, on the plane and at home. It lasted for weeks. It's the only time I've ever gotten that sick on a trip so of course, I'll never forget it or Arenal. Four years later, I still haven't wiped the mud and lava from the sneakers I wore to climb the volcano. When I'm in strength-training class, crumbling from the ridiculous torture my instructor dreams up, I like to look down at my shoes and remember the strength I showed when I climbed that volcano.