Grottos, waterfalls, fig trees, and bats

Saturday evening, while Tyler and Ana took a nap (both being of a considerably weaker constitution than myself), I decided to head out and see what kind of trouble I could find for an hour or so. Upon leaving our casita, I ran into the group of American kids we had met earlier, who were staying in one of the casitas in our hotel. They, immediately recognizing me for the all around good-guy that I am and hearing of my plans for the next hour, invited me to join them in a small excursion they had decided to undertake. Letting my other (lazy) travelling companions know that I wouldn't be joining them for dinner, I made plans to meet up with them later.

Cramming all five of us into my new friends' rental car (3 girls and one guy, if that isn't mentioned earlier), we bounced along on the rutted and immensely pot-holed dirt road that winds 6km from Santa Elena to MonteVerde biological reserve. Some distance along the road, but not quite to the park, we turned off onto a smaller, even more improbably dessicated track leading up the hillside. After some distance, we came to a barred gate, at which point we left the car and continued on foot.

To give a small amount of background, one of the girls (Madeline), had studied at the top of this road at a small biological preserve for a semester 5 years before, and knew the area. The preserve consisted of a fairly large two story house/laboratory, at the front of hundreds of acres of privately owned jungle, which served as a giant field observation area as well as a protected wilderness. Having studied there, she wanted to show her friends the place, and take us to a special place she knew of.

Returning to my narrative, I found myself walking up to into this preserve with my new-found friends. At the house, after a moment for pictures and a bit of her reminescence about the place (the view was spectacular, looking out over giant mountains and green hills spilling down to the Pacific ocean off in the distance), she led us off onto a small path, and down into a beautiful little grotto (complete with waterfall, small pool, and giant hanging vines, enclosed by very steep walls to form a completely hidden hollow). The path was very steep, and unfortunately muddy.

Spending some small amount of time there, we then went to dinner, and finally back to the hotel, where I found Tyler and Ana. All of us had a beer together, and then headed out to go find some nightlife. Tyler and Ana again called it an early night, both being, to put it delicately, complete wusses. I, along with my new (better) friends, spent the rest of the night dancing Salsa (yes, I dance, albeit somewhat without grace) and drinking Guaro (a local alchol, bearing a greater similarity to the rubbing variety than the drinking kind).

The next day, my other friends having departed for greener pastures, Tyler and Ana, (having somehow recuperated their energy stores), found my suggestion that we return to that little grotto to be a sound one. After breaking our fast, we caught a cab up to the preserve, and then proceeded to slip and slide down that same muddy path to the little grotto. Tyler, of course, proceeded to hang on a giant vine over the grotto floor, some 20 feet off the ground, and attempt to hurt himself in such a way that would necessitate me climbing back up the side of the grotto packing him in the traditional "fireman's carry". Narrowly avoiding tragedy, he managed to return to the ground safely. Proof

Madeline had told us about another interesting feature of that particular locale, being that up the opposite side, accessible by a "path", was a giant strangler fig tree, which was hollow in the interior, up which one could climb to the very top. A stangler fig tree, for those of a less botanically minded persuasion, is a tree which grows around another, usually very large tree. Over many years, it eventually engulfs the victim, and strangles it (hence the name). The other tree, being dead and no longer needing the nutrients it has hoarded away, rots out, leaving this 100-200 foot tall monster fig with a completely hollow core, formed by twisting rootlike trunks, which makes it almost like a ladder; perfect for climbing up inside.

Deciding that our day would not be complete without a trip up this particular tree, the three of us proceeded to scale the opposite wall of the grotto. The "trail" began steeply, and only got worse (but better, in the fun sense of the word). Soon, we were virtually scaling a cliff, using giant roots and vines to pull ourselves up through the jungle flora. Rising about 150 feet up the side, we finally reached the tree which grew at an angle of about 45° out over the grotto. Tyler and Ana began climbing up inside, while I waited below to see if the tree would tear loose and spill them down into the grotto below. This, of course, was out of my sense of duty, being that someone would have to be there to point and laugh as they extricated themselves from this predicament. However, the tree proved to be amazingly strong (as we actually had determined before beginning), being as it was very large, some 5 feet in diameter and probably roughly 100-200 feet tall. The inside tunnel was probably about 4 feet in diameter, athough that varied along the length.

The two of them climbed up inside, with Tyler of course in the lead, and Ana close behind. From my position at the base of the tree, I had an excellent vantage point from which to witness the bats that called this particular tree home as they were disturbed from their rest, and proceeded to attempt to fly up Ana's behind. After the screaming stopped (Tyler can be such a baby), and the bats had returned to their roosts, the two of them continued on up into the tree. There not being enough room at the top for all of us, I whiled away my time slogging through the jungle, and swinging around on various roots and vines, channeling my inner monkey. Eventually, Ana decided to come back down, to give me a chance, and braved the bat-filled tunnel back down to ground level. (She only screamed twice, the brave girl).

So now it was my turn, and I slid up inside the tree, climbing steadily while keeping an eye out for more of those bats. At one point, I attempted to belly-crawl under one that was hanging mere feet above my head, quietly murmuring calming things to the bat so that it wouldn't freak out again, but unfortunately this bat spoke a dialect of Spanish that I simply don't know, and it flapped around for a bit and then out through a hole in the tree, apparently deciding that these intruders were not going to leave anytime soon, and he should therefore simply vacate the premises. Finally reaching the top, I poked my head and shoulders out of the hole at the top, to find myself suspended some 300 feet above the small pool at the bottom of the grotto, high up above even the surrounding canopy.

Needless to say, I soiled myself.

Looking around for Tyler, I finally spotted him about 30 feet higher than I, up in the highest branches of the tree. Apparently his inner monkey can climb better than I, and after spending about 5 minutes simply hanging out at the opening, I decided that caution is indeed the better part of valor, and did not go any further. The view from the top was absolutely amazing. From up there, one can look out over the jungle which swarms up the mountains on the right, and cascades down to the hills below on the left. The view extends all the way out to the Pacific again, this time providing a much more panoramic field of vision.

Time becoming somewhat pressing, we decided to head back down, and I worked my way back to the base, followed a few minutes later by Tyler. We all spent a minute or two just enjoying the location, then descended by the same route we had arrived. We scaled the far wall, and began the long walk back to town (although we finally caught a cab after a few minutes on the main road).

Later, after some confusion at the bus office, we boarded the bus for the long ride home. Having arrived in the evening when it was dark, this was the first time we actually could see the road that we had traveled up to get to Santa Elena in the first place, and it was a somewhat intimidating sight. This was indeed prime bus-plunge territory, as the road was a narrow dirt path with enormous cliffs on first one, then the other side of the bus. The views were absolutely amazing, however.

After far too many hours on a bus, we finally arrived back in San Jose, only to catch another bus to Heredia. Arriving late, we all parted ways and I went home to shower and then slept like the dead.

NOTE: We have pictures, some online, which should be here later.

Days without bat attacks: 2
- posted by Micah @ 7:30 PM