Today was quite possibly the best day I will have in Costa
Rica. In fact, our hike was so full of beauty and wonder that it is overwhelming
to comprehend what we saw and achieved. So how did this adventure begin? Well,
squatter law in Costa Rica allows individuals to make claim to an apparently
unoccupied piece of land. To prevent this from happening on your property, land
owners clearly mark their borders with wide trails and signs. At Finca Quijote
the farm crew will spend a total of 7 days walking the property lines and
clearing paths with machetes over all kinds of terrain and in any weather. Even
though we were forbidden to carry machetes and help, we were allowed to
accompany the guys on their travels today to see the far ends of Phil and
Ginnee’s 1200 acres.
The adventure started a little before 6 am with a climb past
the mirador (lookout) and up a steep incline through a pasture. As we neared
the top of the first ridge, dense forest replaced open fields and the crew cut
a small footpath with their ever-sharp machetes. This path would lead us to
where they left off in their work from the day before. But this “shortcut” was
no joke, with narrow paths, steep drop offs and some places where the trail
itself was a vertical wall of mud. Joe, a new WWOOFer wasn’t quite prepared for
the hike, so Alan and Marcos held back with him while Carlos and Wayner plowed
ahead to start their challenging work. I decided I’d like to stick with the
pack leaders and took off after them despite the gap between us. As I clambered
through the now dense and dark jungle, my only guide was seldom cut branches
and fresh footprints in the mud. My glasses fogged with humidity from the wet
forest canopy all around me. Perspiration dripped from my face; my back soaked from
a heavy pack as I struggled to hear or see my friends ahead – no luck.
Fortunately for me Wayner had to take a break, his heart
pounding from a medical condition that doesn’t seem to slow him down on most
days. Not accustomed to the slippery mud, the debris in the trail, and just
because I’m a gringo, he could hear me approaching and waited for me. Together we
hoofed the rest of the way to the meeting point – a full 30 minutes before our
companions arrived. From there the guys cut, and cut and cut and cut their way
through the path and we followed behind, careful to not get in the way of
slinging, super-sharp blades.
Our next break point was for lunch, down a steep ravine into
a clearing made from the confluence of two streams. Two small waterfalls
welcomed our presence, and Marcos filled his cup with water from one of the
streams. “Agua potable, y muy buena.” We’ve all been warned about drinking the
water, but caution met the wind a long time ago and I will never forget the
taste of clear, cool mountain water right from a stream (I also will not forget
to buy some parasite pills the next time I’m in Turrialba).
Onward we pressed, with the most exciting parts ahead. Up, over
and down extremely steep terrain the guys used their machetes and climbed with
ease, as we struggled to follow behind with only our packs and the use of both
hands. Standing, waiting for the path to be cut, we began to notice the life
crawling about the forest floor. Invertebrates of all shapes and sizes scurried
and hopped below our feet. Frogs, lizards, brightly colored spiders and large
leaf-mimic insects appeared where previously we saw only fallen plant debris.
When the guys were
done with the days work, the shortcut back took us down the headwaters of the
Rio Oro. Over rocks and woody debris we followed the river back to the farm. As
we drew closer to the confluence of the Rio Oro and the Rio Atirro, the water became
deep and fast, making it hard to cross even with our rubber boots. All chances
of staying dry were lost when the skies opened, and now the only object was to stay
on our feet and not fall into the river. Ahead of us, and with a machete in one
hand, our friends demonstrated what Phil calls “Tico-hopping”, the guys jumping
from rock to rock and crossing the river with ease. We struggled to keep up,
often having to help the dogs by carrying them across deeper parts of the
river. Tiny waterfalls were abundant, with deep pools at the base where Wayner
jumped in fully clothed!
Up a muddy slope, a narrow trail ran alongside the raging
river that was quickly filling with water from the heavy rains. We walked swiftly,
and went around what appeared from above to be a tunnel of flowing water. At
the end of the trail we climbed back down to the river and headed upstream to
see what we had missed. A brilliant 25 foot waterfall to one side, and a series
of cascading waterfalls to the other. Natural pools were bountiful and even the
rain could not ruin the magic of that place. We took in the view for a short
while and continued on our way. The trail returned to dense forest, then open
pasture as our 9-hour journey came to an end. Exhausted, boots full of water and
clothes muddy and wet, we made our way like a band of gypsies back to the farm
and then to our guesthouse. The journey was over, but the memories of that
challenging, yet stunningly beautiful hike will last forever.
