Rivers and Falls

On Monday morning, as promised, the beautiful Antonio returned. For $20US each, we would be taken to see two of the three saltos (waterfalls) for which the area is famous, and be taken to the kissing rivers to ride along the Yaque del Norte.



Antonio was a delight. Aside from being drop dead gorgeous, he spoke excellent English and did not intend to put us both on his motoconcho...he had a car. He is 33, married with two boys (he showed us photos), and is working on building his dream home. His sister works in real estate. This being one of WW's passions (he examines properties wherever we go and is never happier than when examining photos in an agent's window), they chatted amiably about housing prices and which were the nicest areas. La confluenza is one of the best.

WW and Antonio going along Rio Jimenoa to the trail head

We arrived at a parking lot, ambled down the road to where a woman was taking money for entrance to the Salto Jimenoa Uno y Dos. We went through the turnstile and along the river, then over a number of very bouncy wooden bridges. After a brief hike, we were at the base of Salto Dos, the lower one.

One of many bouncy bridges

Salto Jimenoa Dos

Then we started upwards, clinging to liana, ropes, long branches, and cables strung for clamberers. Antonio fairly bounced up, trotting across 4" pipes and leaping from slippery stone to scrabbly scree.

Antonio bounced up where we scrabbled

Antonio

WW and I plodded ever upward, and agreed it was reminiscent of our endless climb in the Pyrenees. This one, however, did not take 3 hours. In about 20 minutes, we had reached Salto Uno.



Indescribably spectacular, so I won't try.

Salto Jimenoa Uno

It was, as is so often the case, harder going down than up. Our shoes are designed for boats, not mountains. At one point, I had a pretty good fall, felt my knee and ankle twist under me and thought only, "There is NO WAY I'm being carried off of here." I made it down ok. Both joints are just mildly strained, not sprained.

Where "three rivers kiss"

Caballos

Then we were taken to the caballos, the three we saw being intact stallions. We were supposed to be gone for an hour's ride along the Yaque. Antonio would wait, smoke, and played music very loudly. We were accompanied for the tour by a lad of about 12 or 13 years who trotted behind us. He carried a whippy stick which he used to encourage our steeds. This resulted in an extremely uncomfortable and alarmed trot. Each time, I would slow my chap down and we'd resume our pleasant and non-distance-devouring amble. The yout would have none of it. We'd jounce off again. I actually got my noble steed to canter a few times (and a lovely canter he had), then we'd slow down, reckoning we'd put enough distance between our tormentor and us. But never for long. He always caught up. Eventually, he mounted behind WW and rode most of the rest of the way with him. This, thought I, is our chance. I'll just drop back... No luck. He was having none of it and insisted I go just a little ahead, within horse-smacking distance. By now we had left the river track and were on paved road. One of my horse's shoes was audibly loose. More audibly when he was doing his frenetic trot. It all ended, almost half an hour earlier than scheduled. I don't know who was happier, the horses or us. Possibly the lad.

Oh, the river was very pretty.