We Should’ve Went to Costa Rica
By Kenneth L. Decroo, Inland Empire Branch
Every year when spring is just around the corner, I like to tell a story about my best friend, Fritz. He passed on to the next adventure several years ago, but not before he left me one last lesson.
Fritz was a big, larger-than-life man. He lived life to the fullest, adventuring hard in the deserts of Baja California. His loves were motorcycling and fishing, and we did both for close to twenty years. In fact, I would say we rode and fished harder than most people work. I have often said, it is harder to find a good riding and fishing buddy than it is a good wife. And, Fritz was the best buddy I ever had.
He was a man’s man of many contradictions. He was a tall Viking but was the softest touch I ever met. He was the most successful contractor in our valley—a millionaire, but he lived modestly. He was my friend.
Now, to the story. We were planning a motorcycle and fishing adventure down to Costa Rica. The motorcycles were ready, the packing was done, and the dates were set. It was all we talked about for months. I pored over every route and studied all the possible tide charts and camping areas along the way. I thought the date of our departure would never come. I was so excited my friends grew tired of hearing about our plans.
But, a few days before we were scheduled to head out, Fritz called me and said he couldn’t make it. A job had come up which he couldn’t pass up. I was livid and we argued. He said he had doubled his bid but still got the project. He paused and said, “Kenny, there will always next year.”
I postponed Costa Rica and left on a long motorcycle trip which stretched into months. We didn’t talk much during that time as I was traveling to the white spots on the map where there was no connectivity. I was unplugged. When I finally got back, there were several messages on the phone from Fritz’s daughter. She said my friend was ill and I should come right away.
Fritz had been diagnosed with cancer in my absence. What he had thought had been a bad virus before I left had turned out to be lung cancer. Immediately, I went to see him. He was frail and ill. He was not the same person I had left a few months before. He was weak and barely had the strength to speak above a whisper. We talked long into the evening. He weakly laughed, as we recalled all the adventures we had been on and all the traveling we had done.
We fell into a comfortable silence as best friends can do. I looked around his richly appointed house where we had spent so many evenings and realized all his stuff and money didn’t really count for much, now. All we had been talking about were the good times we had shared.
As though he read my mind, he squeezed my hand firmly, eyes welling up, and he said, “Kenny, we should’ve went to Costa Rica.”
My friend, Fritz, died the next day.
Spring is just around the corner. Don’t put anything off.
For me, the roads and dusty trails are calling to get on two-wheels and ride free in the world, plus I have another novel to finish.
My wife, Tammy, and I plan to be motorcycle camping all summer on our adventure bikes. We will try to live a life worth writing about—and should you!
I miss you, Fritz.
“We Should’ve Went to Costa Rica”
originally appeared in the March 2020
Fresh Ink, newsletter of the Inland Empire Branch.