We spent the last four days hiking and nature watching in Corcovado, the largest of Costa Rica’s National Parks and reportedly one of the most biologically diverse places on the planet. We saw a ton of cool creatures, took over a thousand photos & over an hour of video footage, ate a ridiculous amount of tuna and peanut butter, worked the hell out of our legs, and returned to civilization the dirtiest and smelliest we’ve ever been. All in all, a great success in our book. =)
We spent three nights at Sirena Ranger Station, deep in the heart of the park. To get there, we took what I’ll now term a “potato bus” (more on this later) from Puerto Jimenez to the end of the road at Carate, then hiked a beautiful 20 km along the Pacific coast, at times working our way up and around large rock outcrops or wading through streams and rivers. When we had originally gotten our park permits and spoken with the park staff in Jimenez, we were told we’d need to be on the trails by 6am in order to hit the final river crossing (at the Rio Claro) during low tide - crossing at high tide is not recommended, partly due to dangerous currents that could suck you out into the ocean, and partly because the deeper waters allow bull sharks and crocodiles to make their way up the river to feed on fish (or unlucky tourists). We thought we’d take this fairly seriously, and decided to catch the bus to Carate the night before the hike to allow us to get a nice, early start.
Our original plan was to arrive in Carate and find a nice secluded spot to pitch a tent, probably somewhere along the beach. As we were boarding the “bus” from Jimenez, however, we bumped into a couple frazzled-looking backpackers first words to us were, “DON’T CAMP ON THE BEACH!” – they had just returned to town after having their bags stolen from them while camping on the beach in Carate the night before. Yikes – we rode to Carate, and with only a couple hours of daylight to spare and no real idea where we’d end up spending the night, we began our trek down the beach. We were starting to get a bit worried after about 45 minutes in, until we noticed a quaint little property just off the beach with a perfectly mown lawn, impeccably kept gardens, and a few small huts – where the hell were we?? We wandered in and struck up a conversation with the only guy in sight, an older gentleman named Bob who quickly realized we were in a bit of a pickle and said he had no problem with us pitching our tent on the grass. It turned out that he and his son Kelly were on vacation from Northern California, spending a week of it on the property which was owned by a friend of a friend of theirs. In no time, Bob and Kelly were sharing with us their dinner of beans & rice (what else), some great conversation (did you guys know about this Ison comet that’s approaching extremely close to Earth?), and even the last of their special stash (which we smoked from their little seashell pipe). Chelsea and I felt like we’d stumbled into some fairytale paradise, and were happy to contribute one of our very precious chocolate covered coffee beans and a Snickers bar, which we all shared for dessert. An unexpected but most excellent evening!
The next morning we were off to a great start, hiking by 6am and already a few kilometers down the beach. This lasted all of two minutes, at which point we arrived at La Leona Ranger Station and were told that, although we had jumped through all the flaming hoops in Jimenez in getting our park permits, paying the fees at the bank, returning to the office with proof of payment, etc. (taking the better part of an afternoon), we didn’t have the required papers to enter – the lady at the office (Wendy, YOU SUCK!!) took them with our proof of payment receipt (we were supposed to keep it). We were a bit miffed at this point, and after much attempted reasoning in broken Spanish, we found we had no choice but to sit there and wait (for what, we weren’t sure). After waiting two hours for the main office in town to open, the park ranger was able to radio in and obtain the all-important six-digit number that meant all was well. A forced smile & handshake and we were finally off!
After all the excitement up until then, the hike itself was quite uneventful. Hiking over the sand with our heavy packs was fairly slow going, but we made the Rio Claro just before noon and crossed in ankle-deep water, without any sign of nasty rip currents or man-eating creatures. Although Sirena Station, with its creaky bunk-beds, mouse-infested dorm rooms, and rustic vibe felt a bit like a prison, the surrounding forest and extensive network of hiking trails made it all worthwhile. We spent the next couple days exploring, waking with the first rays of sun (the howler monkeys giving us little choice in the matter) and hitting the trails to have a better shot at spotting creatures.
After all the excitement up until then, the hike itself was quite uneventful. Hiking over the sand with our heavy packs was fairly slow going, but we made the Rio Claro just before noon and crossed in ankle-deep water, without any sign of nasty rip currents or man-eating creatures. Although Sirena Station, with its creaky bunk-beds, mouse-infested dorm rooms, and rustic vibe felt a bit like a prison, the surrounding forest and extensive network of hiking trails made it all worthwhile. We spent the next couple days exploring, waking with the first rays of sun (the howler monkeys giving us little choice in the matter) and hitting the trails to have a better shot at spotting creatures.
One morning, as we groggily followed a trail into the bed of a small stream, we were surprised to see a caiman, (like a small crocodile, about 2-3 feet long) relaxing just ten or so feet ahead of us. We eagerly (but carefully) approached to photograph, quite excited at the opportunity. Later that same day we decided to hike to the mouth of the Rio Sirena during high tide, to find out if the whole shark & crocodile thing was just a croc (wah wah waaaaahhh). Soon after finding a nice spot to sit and wait, Chelsea spotted a full-fledged crocodile breaking the surface of the water near the opposite shore. It soon found a spot to hang out across from us and put on quite a spectacular show! It crawled partway onto shore a few times to show off the big chunk of meat it was coaxing down its throat (probably a fish?). It even threw in a couple “death rolls” for reasons unknown. If I’d been properly equipped with my khaki shorts and Tilley hat, nothing could have kept me from swimming across to jump on it’s back and shove my thumb into its cloaca. We both agreed the croc was quite a beaut, about six feet long and pretty mean-looking – definitely not something we’d want to bump into while wading through the water.
Over our four days in the park, we spotted a good variety of wildlife: a mother and baby agouti (something between a deer and a gopher), a whole gang of peccaries (basically black pigs), a coati (a long, pointy raccoon), all four kinds of monkeys (squirrel, capuchin, spider, and howler), a couple anteaters, an otter, a ton of different birds & lizards, hundreds of hermit crabs, a couple funky jungle crabs – the list goes on! Unfortunately, the tapir eluded us, although we did spot some fresh tracks in the mud.
Hiking out on our final day, high tide was around 6am, which meant when we showed up at the Rio Claro crossing around 8 the water was still fairly deep and the current quite fast. Since we weren’t in the mood to risk our lives just then, we tried hiking upstream to find a more inviting point to cross, but found that the trail quickly began to climb and the neighboring riverbank was steep and not without its own risks. We ended up waiting at the crossing for the tide to retreat for about thirty minutes, until a group of German hikers and their guide showed up and decided to brave the waist-deep water. Once they had made it across alive, we deemed there were no crocs in the vicinity and quickly followed in their wake. Twenty kilometers later, we were back in Carate having a hard-earned beer at the small shop by the bus stop. Needless to say, after the big hike in, a couple days of hiking in the park, and then the final hike back out, we were exhausted, filthy, and looking forward to a shower, some pizza, and a real bed.
The ride back started off well – it was a beautiful afternoon and we were content to sit and watch the passing jungle, spotting the odd monkey or macaw in the trees. Shortly after hitting the road, however, the sky darkened and the heavens opened up, dumping down a ridiculous amount of rain. I suppose it’s time for me to elaborate on this “potato bus”… imagine a medium-sized truck you’d see carrying sacks of potatoes or rice along a bumpy country road – now weld two benches along each of the sides and ladder up the tailgate, enclose the top with a moth-eaten tarp, and replace the sacks of goods with people. Needless to say, not the most comfortable ride during a rainstorm. We arrived in Puerto Jimenez sopping wet and chilled to the bone – even the cold showers at our budget hostel felt soothingly warm.
All our clothes (including those we’ll be wearing for tomorrow’s bus ride to David, Panama) are filthy and rancid, our packs are soaked and molding, and I can hardly stand my own stench (those of who you know me will realize the severity of this statement). Here’s hoping for a speedy trip to a Panamanian laundromat!
Pura Vida!
Mandrew
All our clothes (including those we’ll be wearing for tomorrow’s bus ride to David, Panama) are filthy and rancid, our packs are soaked and molding, and I can hardly stand my own stench (those of who you know me will realize the severity of this statement). Here’s hoping for a speedy trip to a Panamanian laundromat!
Pura Vida!
Mandrew
To open in a new window click here
RSS Feed