Awaking Thursday morning on the Frio River, near Lake Nicaragua, all was great.  Breakfast of ham and eggs and smooth, strong coffee, suddenly the skies burst opened.  Thunder and pouring rain--the great morning promised to be challenging.  At 9:00 AM we mounted the bikes in steady rain.  We had to return to San Jose due to a family matter.  The first thirty miles were fine, in steady rain but smooth.

We had two mountain ranges to cross before reaching Zarcero.  Rising altitude on a beautiful winding, tightly curving road, narrow but scenic.  Light rain, when suddenly a dense fog enveloped us.  Fog so dense I cold seldom see Ricardo who was riding within a few feet of me.

  Oncoming trucks and busses?  Yes they were there but we could not see them.  Fifteen miles at high altitudes, a curving and winding road and we could barely see our front wheels.  Stop?  But where?  We could not see to pull off the road.  My heart was pounding.   I was gripping the handlebars so tightly my hands felt paralyzed.  Fear?  Maybe.  Apprehension?  Certainly.

After what seemed like hours, the fog began to lighten, then suddenly we  stopped behind a line of trucks and busses.  No problem, we pulled to the left and passed all of them.  Then the problem.  Two large semi trucks, trying to get around each other, with the hairpin curve  so tight the were going to collide.  At that moment one quit running.  For two hours we set there in the rain while the truckers pondered what to do.  Finally they moved on 50 feet or so and Ricardo and I made our break.  Finally we arrived back in San Jose just before dark.  We were exhausted, but safe.