Two weekends ago we went with a group on a hike up a mountain that overlooks the city of San Jose. The mountain is called La Cruz, “the cross,” because there are three large crosses that have been built on the mountain over the years. The first two crosses are made of concrete and the last one is made of steel. The story of La Cruz somewhat goes like this...years ago Christians built the first cross on the mountain but years later, other people decided to build the second cross to display more religions. The second cross sets on a pyramid looking structure and I think that is suppose to display eastern religions. Not exactly sure, sorry. Anyway, the third cross is the sad one. In the 1980's I believe, there was a big family reunion going on in San Jose that was very publicized. The women in the family decided that they all wanted to hike up to La Cruz, all the way up to the top of the mountain where there is a nice area to camp. Somehow, word leaked out to some bad men and these men followed the women up the mountain. The group of men found the ladies camping at the top of the mountain and they raped and killed all of them, about 17 or so, young and old women. In memory of the women who died here, the third cross was then built. Today, there are some Ticas who won't even go near the mountain for fear of what happened to the women there.
We left the house around 6:30 and our group took two buses to get there. The path was pretty narrow most of the time. It was a path basically just for the cattle that were here and there all over the mountain. It was a good climb up though. It took us about 3 hours to get up the mountain, with stops at each cross. Coming down the mountain was the hard and dangerous part. The path down was the steepest path either of us have ever climbed. Of course the kids with us were the first ones down because they just leaped from ledge to ledge. Patrick did alright because he had trekking poles. I on the other hand was like fifth from last coming down because I pretty much climbed down backwards. My legs were too short to go down forward:) The grass was thick so I turned around and grabbed the tufts of grass and lowered myself down to the next ledge between the tufts of grass, then repeated, all the way down the mountain. Some people scooted down the whole way on their behinds in the mud. It was not a fun experience and at one point the girl in front of me tripped and went rolling down the hill. It was really scary! Luckily someone ahead of us stopped her fall after a few rolls. Once down the mountain there was a river and we followed the path down the river, having to cross the river a few times, and out to the nearby town to catch the bus. It took us 4 hours to get all the way down the hill and out. Just to get down the steep hill, it took me an hour and a half because I was so slow. Patrick was much faster but he would so nicely stop every once and a while and wait for me to make sure I was safe. At one point down the steep hill I also stepped in cow poop, it was not fun. Luckily the river was right there to wash off in. When we were done we were covered in mud and aching from head to toe! The next day I could barely walk I was so sore but it was a fun time and Patrick is hiking it again tomorrow with a group of guys:)