This is Nélson, who was our guide at his reservation. I was expecting to see anyone in traditional, native clothing, but I was a little surprised at how western his clothes were. Nevertheless, people often forget that certain changes are inevitable or beneficial, or in some cases, both. Before Eurasian diseases decimated native populations in the Americas, there were no equines for Plains natives, or pineapples for Hawaiians, etc.
This is a plant from the genus, Salvia. I'm not able to identify which species this is on two accounts: I'm not a botanist, and there are over 700 known species. One of the variants, Salvia divinorum, is cultivated for smoking, yet the U.S. DEA has only listed it as a "drug of concern". Several states have criminalised it, and it is still legal in Canada.
Ronny Santamaría Villegas, our driver for most of the trip. He's a vaquero or caballero at heart and grew up in a small town called Canitas, in the province of Guanacaste. For any of you who have travelled to Costa Rica, you should recognize his surname as that of Juan Santamaría, Costa Rica's national hero, and for whom the airport is named.
This tree bleeds. I spent a while looking for more information on it but found nothing. Nélson pointed out to us that the true way to learn is to spend time in nature, experiencing it, rather than reading about it in a book or online. I suppose he was right.
This is a berry from the Citronella costarricensis tree. The oils are used as mosquito repellent all over the world.
Another vascular plant. I saw this one off to the side but couldn't get any information on it.
Inside Basilica de Nuestra Señora de los Angeles in Cartago, Costa Rica. The church holds a black Madonna, known as La Negrita. An indigenous girl was rumored to have found it back in 1635, but it kept returning to its original site where it was found. This is not the original church, yet the Madonna has stayed put.
Romantic "Scenes" Are Not Permitted. This was on the entrance to the restaurant where I made the following shot, and the instructions were only lightly followed.
Lots of vultures.
A truck...again. Obviously I had to go inside.
It's amazing how intricately Christianity, and most often, Roman Catholicism, is interwoven with Central American culture. Invoking the name of God in a goodbye is customary, whether one says Adios or Que Dios le bendiga...
Banana Flower (Musa sapienti)
Hanging Lobster Claw (Heliconia rostrata)
Carretas, or oxen carts, are one of the most easily identifiable Costa Rican national symbols. For the same reason that Costa Rica is not plagued by the internal disputes that are still present in its neighbor countries, there are not many impressive architectural or monumental sites. Instead, Costa Rica idenitifies with these carts, a once invaluable item for any farmer.
Diego, explaining some of the differences between plaintains (pron. ˈplantən) and bananas.
Looking a little diabolic here. The best pickers can get up to eight baskets a day.
In Monteverde it rains so often and unpredictably that they have store the coffee beans in these greenhouses. Diego is examining a couple grains that have been baked for a different periods of time.
This here is Cacique, the only sanctioned distributor in Costa Rica of guaro, which is liquor or brandy made from sugar cane. It is sitting upon the device that one would use to make the product. Note the unpainted yoke in the background.
After skating all day, bridgejumping sounded like a great way to cool off. Scotland Bridge, crossing the York River, has long been a summertime favorite of my hometown friends and I.
Though not the highest bridge in the area, it is ideal for the performance of snowboard moves, or "aerial somersaulting maneuvers". Byron opts for the forward spinning flip.
The water is delightfully refreshing... it'll put a grimace on your face.
I always seem to incorporate a 180 into backflips... this one came early.
WARNING: watch for passing watercraft... "Gud af'tnoon thay'h mista fish'mun."
On our way home, I spotted a large, dark object on the side of the road. On second inspection...a turtle! This one was much bigger and grumpier than the first. 
And so, just as a turtle marked the beginning of our adventure, a turtle heralded its end... how symbolic. "Look at you Mr. Grumpy Turtle, you're so symbolic...yes you are, oh yes you are!"
Our final downhill destination was Mt. Agamenticus. Historically, with an elevation of 692 feet above sea level, it served as a marker for mariners off the coast of southern Maine. In more recent history (from 1966 to 1974) it was a ski area named "The Big A", and one can still find remnants of a chairlift and t-bar.
A paved road winds all the way up to the summit, including a few hairpin turns. The inside portion of this particular curve has a pitch of almost 15 degrees.
There are literally no mellow or near-flat sections, so we were not able to start far above the curve...nor continue far after. The only way to make it was to slide...up go the sleeves to get down to business.
Not stop, drop, and roll but rather roll, drop, and (slide to) stop.
After a few tries myself, I kept eyeing the remaining slope. Following the hairpin is a steep but long right turn which empties out to a quick flat-ish section followed by another slope into a "T" with a bigger road. I debated whether or not it was makeable.
In my first attempt I started from above the hairpin, at the same spot as before. The amount of speed gained by the end of the turn forced me into a slide (from which I never recovered).
Not satisfied, I hiked back up and started right in the curve. I still picked up quite a lot of speed by the time I skated past Byron, but I was able to ride it out to the runout. 
After spending the night at my house, day 2 of our adventure began on my neighborhood pavement, Frost Hill. We warmed up with some tow-ins using the moped my father won in a $5 raffle.
By mid-morning, the summer sun and heat had set in full-force. Keeping it cool, Byron set up in the shade and I went for some Adam-and-Adam-inspired cross steps.
We never quite got this sliding shot. After repeated attempts my gloves, along with our patience, were wearing out so we moved on.
Aerodynamic and confident: hands behind the back.
Weight on the toes,
then transferring to heels. 
