Costa Rica Coast to Coast – Over the Continental Divide

by Alan Cole · Published Thursday, May 21st, 2026 · Updated Wednesday, May 20th, 2026

Today was the day we tackled the Continental Divide, billed as the big day of our Costa Rica Coast to Coast adventure. All of the reviews and anecdotal stories suggested that the climb on the bike would be really tough. From what I’d heard, everyone had to get off and push at some stage as it was steep, and the 14 km climb was what broke many people. The van would be close by for those who couldn’t make it, but with a small group of just four of us I was fairly certain it wouldn’t be needed. We were on mountain bikes, the climb itself was on the road, so the surface should be fine. And how steep could it actually get?

We had breakfast at the hotel and then got onto our bikes with some trepidation. I was fairly certain by now that I was the strongest of the group on the bike, so had the least to worry about, but maybe the others had been sandbagging. In many ways I was actually looking forward to it. Up until now everything had been really easy. Maybe today was about to test me.

Climbing to the Continental Divide

We left the town of Santa Maria behind and were soon on the long climb. It was on a busy road, but early in the morning, so although there were numerous cars and trucks trundling past, it wasn’t too busy and most gave us a wide enough berth.

I settled into a very easy rhythm. I was barely putting any force through the pedals, just turning them lightly and going as slowly as I could, always keeping plenty in reserve for when the going got tough.

Despite the lack of effort, I soon left the others behind and found myself pootling along up the hill on my own. I was able to take in the view as I went, look out for the elusive sloth in the trees, and enjoy the peace and solitude.

Soon the road started to tighten into a series of bends as it wound its way up the hill. As well as the heat and humidity of Costa Rica, we were also entering elevations above 2,000 m, where altitude can also have an effect on performance. I was aware of all these factors, so continued to keep the effort reined in, ready for the steep parts.

I dropped my chain on one of the bends, so stopped to fix it. From my vantage point I had a good view back down the hill but could see no sign of the others. I continued on alone, and at a slightly levelling section of the climb I came across Memo with the van and trailer. I stopped to top up my water and wait for the others.

So far so good, there had been no steep sections yet. We were now at around 2,000 m and I had left the others far behind without putting in any real effort. Memo seemed quite surprised to see me already, and I had quite a long wait sitting in the shade before the others arrived.

Memo and I also spotted a motmot in the trees across the road. I hadn’t seen one before, but it’s the national bird of Nicaragua, known for its turquoise, green, rust, and black plumage and its distinctive racket-shaped tail feathers. Unfortunately, it was too far away to get a decent photo.

The others eventually arrived looking a little tired. Most, if not all of them, had indeed been off their bikes and pushing at points on the climb. It was quite reassuring, therefore, that I had found it so easy so far. We sat in the shade for a while before setting off again.

Once again I left them behind immediately and settled into another steady solo climb. It never really did get difficult or steep. I arrived at the top at just over 2,300 m feeling fresh and barely warmed up. Had I known it wasn’t going to get properly steep, I may have put in a little more effort.

The Pan American Highway

At the top, the road intersected with the Pan American Highway. It was very busy here, with huge, noisy trucks thundering past, belching fumes as they climbed towards the pass or descended away from it.

Some were stopping at the same café we were heading to for our second breakfast. Doty told us to go in and choose whatever we wanted, it was all already paid for.

There was almost too much choice: every kind of food you could imagine, plus plenty of things we couldn’t identify, all served with the usual rice and beans. I had an omelette and some deep-fried items, along with salad, rice, and beans, all washed down with some fresh fruit juice of unknown variety. There was a shop selling all sorts of goodies within the café too.

We had a discussion about the Pan American Highway, which is classed as the world’s longest motorable road network, spanning roughly 19,000 miles (30,000 km) from Alaska to southern Argentina. It is not a single continuous road, but a vast connected system spanning 14 countries.

I questioned this slightly, as I knew there is a major break known as the Darién Gap between Panama and Colombia, a 60-mile stretch of dense jungle and mountainous terrain where no road exists for environmental, political, and safety reasons. Vehicles must be shipped around it. I wasn’t entirely sure how the route still qualifies as a single continuous highway given that gap.

After filling our tummies, we joined the Pan American Highway ourselves for a fast descent on smooth, sweeping bends before turning off onto a smaller, much quieter road that eventually became a track.

Hiking through the Centre of Costa Rica

We weaved through rural farmland, alpine-like scenery and small villages, stopping occasionally for photos. The road undulated and twisted before we reached a transition point by a busier road where we switched into hiking kit.

We then climbed steeply on foot before continuing through farmland that included hydrangea fields and eucalyptus plantations. In one area, we again saw the remarkable nests of the oropendola bird, master weavers that construct enormous hanging pouch-like nests suspended high in the canopy.

These nests can exceed a metre in length and are woven by females using plant fibres, vines, and dry leaves. Their tubular design is highly flexible, allowing them to sway violently in tropical storms without tearing. The entrance sits at the top of the pouch, while a protected chamber inside holds the eggs and chicks.

The colonies are even more remarkable: dozens of nests can hang from a single tree, forming what looks like an entire “tree city” suspended in the canopy. The nests are typically attached to the thinnest branch tips, making access difficult for predators such as monkeys and snakes. Many colonies are also built in trees occupied by aggressive wasps, whose stings provide additional protection.

After passing through farmland and encountering the first other hikers of the trip (tourists heading the opposite direction), we began a steep descent on red clay soil that was slightly slippery underfoot. At the bottom we met Memo again, where he and Doty prepared lunch: beef and chicken empanadas with freshly made guacamole, plus mango, pineapple, and melon.

Into Luxury

It was then back into cycling kit for a short, easy ride along a lane beside the Rio Navarro, including a river crossing, before arriving at what turned out to be an excellent hotel.

What should have been a night of camping had become a stay in a luxury spa hotel with thermal pools, landscaped gardens, welcome drinks, and large rooms. A very welcome surprise. The gardens were full of trees and shrubs and flowers of all shapes and sizes. Some familiar houseplants from home, others that I’d never seen before, and the trees were dripping with bromeliads.

Once settled, I wandered through the gardens, had a dip in the thermal pool, and caught up with Anna by text, which was nice. The others spent a long time in the pool, easing aching muscles and slowly turning into wrinkled prunes. I would have joined them, but hot water and I don’t mix these days, and the natural spring water trickling in from a small waterfall was very warm. Instead I chilled on the lounger.

Dinner was burgers all round, along with a G&T and some beers, before heading to bed. Today had been billed as the hardest day of the trip, and some were dreading it, but we all made it through unscathed. Kevin did end up in a few ditches here and there and almost came a cropper on a river crossing, and Doty nearly crashed while stopping on a descent by the van.

I’d found it all relatively easy, which was reassuring, although I did manage to catch the sun a bit. My piriformis muscle was also sore in the evening — probably aggravated more by long hours in the saddle at low power than by the riding itself.

Time now to relax, wash some clothes and try to dry them and then get some sleep ready to do it all over again tomorrow.