Coasting to Rica

My grandson calls it Rica Rica. However you pronounce it, I recommend going. Beautiful country and very nice people. It may have started off a little inauspiciously for me but still it was good.

The group consisted of Linda and me, Brian and Lela and their kids, Bryla and Blue, along with Mary Lynne. A family friend, Brandon, joined us as well. Jeremy had something interfere which made it that he couldn’t go. Mary Lynne wished he were with us but had fun anyway.

We knew that there were restrictions about COVID and traveling but we kept appraised of the requirements and restrictions and felt comfortable about the trip. Lots of paperwork needed to be transmitted to the Costa Rican government via email but by the night before we left we had it all done.

Flights Phoenix to Dallas, then Dallas to San Jose Costa Rica were relatively effortless. I say that because I didn’t have a 7 year old Bryla and a 3 year old Jeremiah (Blue) to deal with on the plane. Lela and Brian did the hard part.

We landed in San Jose around 7pm and headed to customs and immigration. We had our paperwork with us and felt that there shouldn’t be a problem. As usual I was lagging behind so I watched as the others had their QPR code on their phone and sailed right through. I had my phone with the QPR code ready to go. When I flashed it at the immigration officer he said my name out loud and told me to go with a young lady standing at the side. Evidently they were waiting for me; my reputation preceded me.

Linda became alarmed when the young lady looked at her, pointed in the direction of the exit and escorted me in the opposite direction. She led me to an area a few yards away which was cordoned off from the rest of the area and told me to wait. I glanced in Linda’s direction and she was visibly concerned about my welfare. The authorities kept telling Linda to move along which increased her concern.

Shortly a bus pulled up and the young lady indicated that I should get on and go with the driver, wherever he was going. As Linda watched me board the bus, as the only passenger by the way, her look of apprehension increased. I’ll admit that my apprehension was beginning to increase as well. But not having any choice or say in the matter, I sat down while the bus drove me to my next destination.

That turned out to be a large area in a different part of the airport with a few people working at desks behind screens. One of them caught my eye and motioned me over. She asked to see the paperwork I had, looked it over, stamped one of them and sent me on my way. I read the one she stamped and saw it was the affidavit that I’d needed to bring stating that I wouldn’t be seen on the beach or other public places while wearing shorts.

Of course there wasn’t a bus to take me back but at least I felt relief that I wasn’t going to a dungeon in Costa Rica for 20 years because I didn’t have proper paperwork. I trekked the 27 miles back to the main part of the airport, went through customs and caught up with Linda. At first I thought she was really happy to see me but then I realized that I had the reservations to the hotel with me. Still, it was good to be needed.

After meeting several nice Costa Ricans, some of whom got us transportation to the hotel where we were spending the night before continuing to the town of Uvita the next morning. We had lots of luggage and there were 6 adults (assuming you count me as an adult) and 2 children. It needed to be a big van. The van sent by the hotel was sufficient but barely. After stuffing ourselves in the van we set off. It was dark so we didn’t get to see much of the city but we enjoyed the trip. The van driver was also the front desk clerk. He told us that the restaurant normally closed at 8 but they had agreed to stay open for us. Oh gosh, what a treat! Everything each of us ordered was very good. I had some fish, the best fried fish I’ve ever had. We thanked the chefs and waitstaff profusely then went to our respective rooms and settled for the night.

We (Linda) had arranged for a driver to pick us up at the hotel and take us on the 3 hour journey to Uvita. Gilberth was fantastic, filled with knowledge of the area and up for what ever adventure we had in mind. He stopped at a souvenir shop/coffee shop for us. We took advantage and bought shirts and Cokes. There were lots of sights to see on the way to Uvita and Gilberth answered many questions.

The place we’d chosen to stay was absolutely beautiful. Closeted in trees and shrubbery. It was hidden behind them so that when we turned the corner up the driveway it sprang into view in a spectacular way. It literally took our breath away. A number of common rooms in the downstairs area and 4 bedrooms upstairs. Large rooms, each nicely appointed. The backyard was dominated by a large pool and several lounge areas. Lots of nice seating and shade areas in which to relax. We settled into our home for the next few days and began to explore. The kids of course, wanted in the pool immediately. Brian had Gilbreath take him to a car rental agency to get the car he’d reserved and the rest of us relaxed.

The next morning the rest of the gang chose to go to a national park for hiking and other exploring which fit into my master plan nicely. While they were gone I put on a pair of shorts and laid out on a lounger with a Coke and a book. I laid there long enough that the tops of my legs and feet began to turn red. I knew that was long enough for my plan to work.

See, I figured that if I got burned enough, I could wear shorts because long pants would rub on the sunburn and cause too much pain. On the several times that a local resident complained and called the Fuerza Publica, I was able to worm my way out of jail time by pointing to my inflamed legs and raising my palms upward and shrugging. The officials scolded me but let me off each time; my plan worked.

We had activities for several of the days and spent lots of time relaxing by the pool and in the cool of the house. We went whale watching, horseback riding, saw sloths and monkeys, much fauna among the flora. One afternoon, several of the gang hiked to a nice waterfall and went swimming. One evening the house caretaker came out with handfuls of bananas and put them on the roof a shed. In just a few minutes there were a dozen little white faced monkeys grabbing pieces of banana and scrambling back up in the trees. They would put a piece in their mouth and one in each hand, then struggle to climb the tree back to shelter. Such a treat to see.

One nice thing was that the local roosters didn’t start crowing until about 8:30 or so. However, the monkeys begin chattering at around 4 and the cicadas started up around 6 to make sure we were awake. We got used to it and learned to enjoy it. Another noise that was fun was the howler monkeys in the evenings. Those things are loud! Rumor has it that if you walk near them they will find coconuts and sticks to hurl at you. Fortunately I didn’t get close enough to find out, but it was interesting to hear them.

The rest of our stay was mostly uneventful but always pleasant. We needed to show proof of negative COVID tests before we could get on the return flight and Brian arranged for us all to get tested at a clinic in Uvita. We had several nice experiences in local restaurants but Lela prepared most of our meals in the kitchen at the house. She used local ingredients and turned out some fabulous entrees. I’ll admit to almost daily treks to the local supermarket. Seems that I always needed something, usually chocolate or Coca Cola. Sometimes both.

The return trip was free from being searched or detained by immigration authorities from either country. The only surly encounters were with US officials but we’ve become accustomed to that. Our folk seem to be to most rude. Even my experience when landing in San Jose was done in a pleasant manner, no rudeness involved.

One thing to point out is that both Bryla and Blue were absolute troopers during both long flights. Long walks from terminal to terminal were not made unpleasant by cranky children. Not sure we can say the same about the oldest member of the group.

But having said that, it should be noted that the entire group that traveled together was pleasant and accommodating at every juncture. I’d go most anywhere with the same group again. Thanks to all involved.

We enjoyed our stay very much and would go back in a heartbeat.

                                          
                              It Didn't Start Out To Be This Way

The day started out ok; funny how quickly things can deteriorate.

The project was to level and stabilize the 5^th wheel RV that we’ve put in the side yard of the house in Mesa. We intend to stay there during the time of evil white fungus that falls when it’s cold in Flagstaff. We hired a guy with a truck to move it for us. It took much weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth to position it where we wanted it and then when the guy  dropped it off of his truck, it fell back 6 inches. With tears in our eyes we sent him on his way, deciding that we could mess it up ourselves; no need to pay him to do that for us.

Linda and I recruited the Dandoys and other strangers passing by on the sidewalk to assist in moving the RV. We got two big floor jacks to put under the front stabilizer legs, raised the RV and while Lela and I drove the floor jacks, the others gave a mighty shove. Someone yelled, “There’s a light up above.” And 20 men scrambled from a would-be grave… No wait, that’s from the song Big John; sorry for the diversion. But our folk did give a mighty shove and the RV moved. After several more shoves, and several tests deciding that we had enough room for the slide out, we dropped the front end onto stabilizer jacks and called it good. Sat in a chair and had a Coke.

That was a couple of weeks ago. Linda has since returned to the frozen north (Low there tonight: 25. Low here tonight: 55. I’ll take 55 thank you.) That left me to stabilize the RV by myself. Not a big deal, right? Maybe it shouldn’t have been, but with me involved… Let’s just say it could have gone more smoothly.

The process entailed setting up a couple of levels on the floors inside the RV; one for level side to side, the other for front to back. Then using the front legs, numerous stabilizer jacks and the 3 ton floor jack purchased for the project mentioned above, I would crawl under the RV, set up concrete blocks on which I’d place the stabilizer jacks, then tighten the jack to the frame of the RV. There were 5 jacks down each side plus the built-in one on the back of the RV. Place a jack, get up go inside and check level, jack up the RV more, place a jack, get up and check level, jack it up more, get up and check level, ad infinitum. 

All of that seems innocuous enough, and it should have been. But you must keep in mind my advanced age and lack of physical ability. The process of getting down on the ground, laying under the RV while maneuvering cement blocks and stabilizer jacks was time consuming as well as physically demanding. Getting up was even harder; gravity is my enemy. It crossed my mind that had anyone been watching it would have seemed comical.

That’s the point at which I realized that the renters living in the house were all staring at me through the windows. That wouldn’t have been so bad but they had gone across the street to get neighbors to come and watch too. Tickets were sold and I think I smelled popcorn. 

The culmination of the activity was that after placing the very last stabilizer, I got up to check level. Except that this jack was under the part of the RV where one of the slide outs is. I crawled out from under the RV itself but forgot about the slide out. As I straightened up and slammed my head into the slide out, the spectators cheered and broke into spontaneous applause. I’m sure my concussion was worth the entertainment value. I’m really dizzy now, but when I can walk straight again I’m going to go demand my half of the ticket sales; only fair I think.

The Saga Of The Datsun In Words And Pictures

This is all Todd and Faith Hare's fault. Ok, a little of it is Linda, Mary Lynne and Lela too. Or course none of it can be attributed to me; nope not taking any of the blame.

The Hares do some autocrossing; they seem to enjoy it. Several years ago they invited the above mentioned ladies to go see and participate in an afternoon of racing. We took them up on the offer and it exploded from there. The kind folks who are autocrossing will allow spectators to ride along on some of the rides. Each of the ladies took advantage of the kindness offered them and took several rides with a number of racers; including of course, Todd and Faith. They had a great time, enjoying every minute of it. I loved seeing my girls having fun and appreciated all who allowed it to happen.

A couple of weeks later I happened across an old friend while perusing the wares at a local auto parts store. We spent some time catching up and when it came time to tell him what we'd been doing lately the story of the autocross adventure came up. I mentioned that maybe I should get a sports car so the ladies could do some of their own autocrossing. He said, "Boy, do I have a car for you."

In the course of the ensuing conversation the story of the Datsun roadster you see here came to light. It seems that someone had owed my friend some money and instead of cash, the Datsun became the payment. The car had sat out in the high desert south of Ashfork, AZ for many years then east of Flagstaff, AZ for a few more years. The car had been partially taken apart in preparation for a restoration. My friend determined that although not in good shape, the car seemed to be complete. His plans had been to either part it out for cash or restore it himself. Like many projects, this one sat for a long time.

These are after we drug it home and cleaned it up a little. It was so full of pack rat droppings that they covered the tops of the seat cushions. 

My powers of persuasion convinced Linda that we needed this car. She agreed to go look at it so we hooked the tow dolly up to my Ford Explorer and made the trek east of town. When we got our first look at the car, my powers of persuasion seemed misplaced; even I wasn't sure this was the car for us. It had an engine in it; but it was sitting in the passenger seat. The transmission was in the trunk. The dashboard was so cracked and split that it was hard to tell it was a dash. Seat upholstery cracked when touched and the carpet couldn't be seen because it was totally covered with pack rat droppings. I mean totally covered, so deep that they covered most of the seat cushions too; I had to brush it off before I could sit on the seat to steer it onto the tow dolly. 

We drug it home, left it on the street on the tow dolly. Maybe that wasn't a good idea; the neighbors all stopped by asking if we intended to leave it there and could we please put it behind a fence somewhere or maybe just haul it off to the junk yard. Twice we hauled it to the local car wash to use the vacuum only to fill the canisters both times. Seriously, there was that much rat poop and chewed pieces of cotton that it filled the big canisters of the car wash vacuums twice. After cleaning out as much as we could, we put the car behind a gate (the neighbors insisted,) to be used as a future project. My darling wife said we couldn't start on it until the current project was complete; the current project was my 1966 Thunderbird convertible. We had been working on it for several years and Linda didn't think it wise to scatter two cars at the same time. I think she was worried that I'd try to put a Datsun bumper on a Thunderbird. Or maybe try to stuff the front seats of the 'Bird into the roadster. In any event, it was agreed that the Datsun would wait.

In due course the Thunderbird was taken to Mesa for a bit of body work and a paint job. That freed up the garage and Linda said, "We may as well do what we can on the Datsun while the 'Bird is gone." As this is written, July 1, 2018, the 'Bird is still in Mesa and the Datsun is up and running. 

We had a misadventure with some itinerant Romanian "body men" who used yellow as a primer. The real body men we took it to later had a devil of a time removing the yellow. You live and learn. The top photo is of the dashboard removed from the car. Visible is the deteriorated state of the foam and vinyl. Bottom photo is me trying to remove detritus left from nesting rodents.

We began disassembly, carefully bagging things as we removed them; Linda's really smart about that sort of thing. The more we took apart, the more I decided the little car was worth saving. Nothing was really bad, it just needed freshening up. There was a small rust area in the front floorboard and a couple of spots on the body. Didn't take much to cure those issues, the rest was a question of taking off bad stuff and installing new stuff.

Oh, if it were only so easy! Example: When we attempted to take off the bad electrical connectors, they crumbled in our hands. We thought we'd install new connectors and all would be good. It didn't quite work out that way. After days of attempts, we decided an entire wiring harness was the best way to go. Of course no one makes a new wiring harness so our only choice was to find the best used ones we could. The wiring ended up being the most challenging part of the entire project. Part of the issue is that the harnesses would be changed mid-year; so an early '69 harness is different than a late '69 harness. None of the suppliers told us that and we went through two harnesses before we got it figured. (By the way, we have an early '69 Datsun roadster under dash wiring harness for sale if you know anyone who might need one.) 

Linda carefully marked all the connections as they came apart. We then transferred the markings to the replacement harness. Made it much easier. It was still difficult but much easier.

The under hood wiring was difficult as well. The lights were the biggest issue. Several email friends had the misfortune of following that adventure as it progressed. I'd think I had one thing worked out only to find that when working on the next thing it changed the first thing. Months of work, several parts and a different wiring harness later and it all works; even the turn signal indicators in the dash.

The engine, supposedly the hardest part of a car rebuild, was fairly straightforward. I'd never been into an overhead cam engine before so I conned a good friend into being the overseer. He'd give me instructions and Linda and I would carry them out. He was around for the truly difficult parts and his help was invaluable; it wouldn't be running now without him.

Linda helping guide the engine/transmission into place.

As long as this missive already is, I've skipped some of the story. To capsulize, the car was taken to a paint shop in Flagstaff for the body work and paint. They did very good work and the car is beautiful. The painter asked what color we wanted and Linda pointed to my Ford Escape and said, "That color." The painter took the paint code directly from my car so now we have two Ruby Red Metallic cars at the house. 

While other work was being done, we took the seats to a local upholstery shop for rebuilding. Again, Linda chose the color and made a wonderful choice. We ordered carpet but Linda built the door panels, rear 1/4 panels, kick panels and to top it off, covered the steering wheel. All in leather, by the way. The seats are leather as well. 

The little car came together pretty well. There were challenges along the way, but so far we've been able to work through them. It's been around the block a few times, probably 30 miles on it total. We drive it, discover an issue, then bring it back home to sort the issue. Mostly minor things but things that need sorting. 

We put larger brakes on the front which necessitated bigger wheels. We bought 4 wheels but then I thought, "What if we have a flat on the front? The spare needs to be a bigger wheel too." So we bought another set of wheels to match. 

Before and after pictures tell some of the story. It's come a long way, looks amazing, runs well and is going to be a fun car to drive. I've already had a blast watching Linda enjoy the car. She has more hours of work on the car than I do. She takes joy in driving it and should be proud of her accomplishment. At some point we'll be ready for an epic journey; Linda's mom says she'd like us to take it to Denver so she can see it. If you come by and the car is running, we'll take you for a ride.