“Ladies and Gentlemen, damas y Gante, we are making our final descent into San Jose. Please make sure to have your carry on luggage stored, and all electronic devices turned off. Welcome to Costa Rica.”

Here we were, my best bud, my bro Emmanuel and I shoved into a tin can at 30,000 feet about to test our testosterone on a killer rainforest adventure. After years of hardcore strength training, running and enough boxing to rival Mike Tyson, we were ready to see what we were made of and get out in one piece.

Once the wheels hit the tarmac, the brakes brought the plane to a grinding stop. Jumping up to retrieve our gear from the overhead bins, we grabbed the massive backpacks, slung them over our shoulders, and joined everyone else deplaning like a group of ants.

Picking up the Jeep we rolled out of the airport onto a short highway then into the lush jungle. Sensory overload as monkeys howled, birds squeaked. Only rutted dirt roads here as Emmanuel powered the vehicle through dense undergrowth, shifting like an animal through the greenery. We finally skidded to a stop at the mouth of a small river just as the skies opened up and the rain came down in torrents. Pouring over the hood and windshield like a car wash. The scent of it unbelievably fresh, like salty sea air from a greenhouse.

As the thunder cracked and exploded and the rain swirled around the tires, Emmanuel jumped out of the car and ran toward the mouth of the river. Stripping off his shirt he released a guttural gorilla yell, as a baby anaconda dropped from a tree over his head onto the muddy embankment.

Yup, here we go,a real-life version of “Naked And Afraid” starring animal man and the old goat.