Costa Rica Travel Blog

Riding Horses in Monteverde

Sat, 15 Jun 2013 07:30:00 EDT

Marvin is Monteverde's resident cowboy. He says he's been riding horses since he was still in his mom's belly. When he's not giving tours, he's training his prize horse Gladiator. I got to spend the day with Marvin, riding through dusty back streets of Monteverde and watching Gladiator perform tricks back at Marvin's ranch.

The sun hung just past early afternoon, as we arrived at the stables. After a brief look around, I met my horse; a sturdy Spanish quarter horse named Whiskey. I grabbed hold of the reins, looked him in the eyes and stroked his cheek – an important step before jumping on a new horse, Marvin said.

We rode from the stables toward Santa Elena. We walked behind the soccer field and through the community known as El Cementerio (named after the nearby local cemetery). The horses trotted along the dirt road and galloped up the hills past sugar cane fields and small country houses lined with wild flowers. The sun began its western roll toward the late afternoon as we passed though the small farming town of Cañitas. On the far side of town, we stopped for a coffee break and eased the stiffness in our legs. Afterwards, we looped through town and rode to Marvin's home.

Around the back of his house, Marvin had the ranch where he keeps his prized 11-year-old horse. He rounded him up and walked him into a small ring. Marvin's performance began with showing off Gladiator's discipline: the horse ran in circles around Marvin while Marvin stood in the center holding onto the reins with a single finger. Next he demonstrated the horse's math skills, Gladiator scratched the dirt with his hoof and counted to five. Both the obedience and intelligence were incredible – if only I could get my dog to listen this well. At one point Marvin had the horse lie down, then lied on top of the horse and pretended to fall asleep.

After the show, we jumped back on our horses and rode back into town as the sun heaved its last few rays over the horizon, burning red like a stoker shoveling coal in the fire's dying embers.

Exploring the Night in Monteverde

Thu, 23 May 2013 08:00:00 EDT

As the sun set over the Nicoya Gulf, a white-nosed coati inspected a small puddle probing the water with its tongue. The coati, a cousin of the raccoon with a long nose and bushy tail, wandered past with the curiosity of a puppy searching for scraps. Inside the nearby reception building, I met my guide, Allen, and a group of three from Holland before heading into the forest for the Bajo del Tigre night hike.

Bajo del Tigre is a sliver of seasonal 70-acre forest in the lower altitudes below the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve. It's part of the Children's Eternal Rainforest Reserve, though not directly connected to the larger reserve. With nearly three miles of trails, Bajo del Tigre is a wildlife corridor that provides a safe route for animals to travel between reserves.

In the dry season, (Jan. – May), the premontane wet forest floors dry up into loosely, packed dirt and dead leaves at Bajo del Tigre. Though the reserve is only a short distance from the wet, mossy-green cloud forest, its lower altitude, 3,350 to 4,500 feet, changes the habitat into a forest that transitions from cloud forest to lowlands tropical rainforest. However, it's still high enough to bring the extra precipitation from the clouds during wet season (June – Dec.).

Daddy longlegs scuttled across the dusty trail as we entered the forest. The familiar arachnids are not real spiders, but nonetheless carry some of the potent poison of any insect. Luckily for us, they aren't big enough to break skin making them harmless to people.

As the Daddy longlegs crept under the cover of fallen leaves, a scorpion skulked underneath a rock. Our guide overturned the rock to show us the brown and black bug curled to hide from our flashlights.

We didn't have to walk far into the forest before we encountered our first big critter. Its eight hairy legs tentatively poked out between the tree roots while Allen used a small twig to mimic a bug. Slowly an orange-kneed tarantula crawled out to meet us. At night, the tarantulas come out from their homes in roots and holes to feed on the smorgasbord of rainforest insects.

While looking among the trees we encountered a few birds including a woodthrush, a silicon thrush and a blue-crowned motmot getting ready to fall asleep on the branches. These birds usually nest in the same places, perching on branches and often tuck their heads under their wings to sleep. The motmot was our best find of the night, its brilliant blue colors and piercing-red eyes reflected in our lights and camera lenses. As we walked back toward the reception, we were set with one final task: find a frog. We searched through heliconias and bromeliads, and just as we were giving up, came across a common rain frog huddling on top of a leaf. After snapping a few pictures, our last find of the night hopped out from the limelight and back toward the safety of the forest.

Walking through the forest at night, you're never quite sure what to expect or what you may encounter along the journey; sloths lumbering through the canopy, snakes hanging from branches, bats swooping in to suckle at humming bird feeders or colorful birds dozing in their own ruffled feathers. Every night is different and the forest is full of mysteries, illuminated by a flashlight and a capable guide.

A Morning in the Canopy with SkyTrek

Thu, 16 May 2013 04:00:00 EDT

The anticipation builds as you ascend more than 4,000 feet above Arenal in Sky Adventure's gondolas. Below you, Lake Arenal spreads out over the horizon while Arenal volcano looms above. From the observation platform at the top, you'll have incredible views of Arenal's peak and your first look at SkyTrek's zip lines.

The Cables

The cable from the observation platform stretches across a valley more than 66 stories above the forest floor – that's taller than some skyscrapers. Before riding that cable though, there are two introductory cables to teach guests how to ride SkyTrek's specially designed pulley and harness system.

Guests ride the cables nearly horizontal, with their knees up while holding on to steel handles, which are attached to the pulley. To brake, guests spread their legs in a 'V' shape and move the handles back and forth to create friction, but don't worry too much because there are guides at the end of every cable to help you stop.

After riding the first two practice cables, it's time for the real thing. The third cable, the one seen from the observation platform, is a pre-made shot of adrenaline as you practically fly across the valley with Lake Arenal on your left and Arenal volcano on your right. As you reach the far side, you'll see a landing strip and a guide to slow you down and unharness you from the cable.

The next series of cables take guests crisscrossing back and forth across the valley at an average speed of 50 mph. That is, until you reach cable five, better known as "Speedy Gonzalez" where guests and guides have clocked more than 70 mph – depending on the winds and body position.

Big Poppa, cable seven, is the longest of the cables taking guests nearly a half mile from the forest to a tall free standing platform high above the visitor's center. Photographers are stationed underneath the last to capture your close up as you touch back on the earth beside the visitor's center.

Day Adventure: Zip lines, Rappelling and Tubing

Mon, 13 May 2013 08:00:00 EDT

It's not where you go… it's the zip lines you take to get there. No trip to Arenal is complete without a fast-paced, high thrill adventure. Here's an itinerary for a half-day adrenaline fix in Arenal: Ride eight ziplines, rappel down a cliff and tube through class II and III rapids.

Zip Lines

There were 13 of us total, a hodgepodge of families and couples on vacation from the U.S. and Canada, plus our two guides. Together we stared at a single steel cable that ran through our outlook beside the Arenal river valley; out the side and down the mountain. Harnessed to the cable, our guide Christian explained how to brake and hold our legs.

We took turns sliding down the first cable; a leisurely ride for first-timers getting comfortable with the sport. The next series of eight cables zigzagged down the mountainside. We moved at a relaxed pace taking in the views of the rainforest and the valley from each of the 10 platforms. The third cable was the longest, a 1,500 foot ride over the tops of trees along the side of the mountain with views of the Arenal river. On the last cable, Christian, hooked himself to one of the other guests and she flew, superman-style, over the valley.

Rappelling

The end of the last zip brought us to a cliff above the river. Our next challenge: A 130-foot vertical descent down to the river. We took off our braking gloves and traded them in for garden gloves (to protect from rope burn). Next we hooked into the rappelling tower that hung over the cliff side and dropped below. Each one of us tried it with a different technique. I preferred long jumps pushing off the cliff side. Each jump, I released the tension on the brake line with my right hand and slowly curled my fingers back around it; swinging back toward the wall.

Tubing

Landing beside the river, it was time for the next leg of the journey. While the others left for horseback riding, Christian and I prepared for tubing.

The river was cool and the current swift. The sun shined down through the valley between the trees and glittered over the water surface. Just as I was getting used to the idea of calmly floating down river, I hit the first set of rapids.

Like the lazy river from hell, I bounced off boulders and spun in the frothing, undulating whitewater. I felt like a pinball, bouncing between flippers and bumpers racking up points for staying inside my tube. The excitement of the rapids was equally matched by the beauty of the surroundings; crystal clear spring water flowing underneath gargantuan rainforest trees, green moss rock walls and the occasional cascades flowing into the Arenal river.

After getting out of the river and back to my hotel, I couldn't wait to wrap my hands around another cup of coffee – or maybe just take a nap.

Cowboys and Horseback Rides

Mon, 6 May 2013 08:45:00 EDT

"The world changes and the cowboys change"

Alex wore a blue plaid button down shirt tucked into his jeans, a baseball cap and black canvas shoes with spurs. For the last 18 years, he's worked as a tour guide showing visitors the beauty of Arenal's volcano and river valley.

Together with a couple of bankers from London and a school headmaster from South Carolina, we mounted our quarter horses and rode into the river valley.

On the trail, Alex gave us the first lesson. The trick to riding is to relax and move with the horse, don't straighten your back, he said, "Tequila helps."

We rode down into the valley then turned to follow the river. A mile downriver we came to a small waterfall. It cascaded down the hillside and over a cliff feeding into the river. After snapping a few pictures, we headed back to a break in the woods and crossed into the water. The horses seemed to enjoy the coolness, bowing their heads to take sips from the current flowing up past their knees.

Farther up the river, we found a sandy shore. We dismounted and tied up our horses beside a cluster of palm trees. We walked down to the river's edge to put our hands in the cool waters.

In the meantime, Alex prepared an impromptu fishing lesson. He pulled down a handful of wild coconuts roughly the size of large acorns from the palms and smashed them on the rocks. He peeled off the coarse skins revealing the soft white flesh inside. Using a pocket-knife, he cut the coconut into pieces and gave us each a taste.

Then, from underneath a rock, Alex procured a flattened-water bottle wrapped in fishing line. He added a piece of coconut flesh to the end of the hook and flung it into the river – no rod, no weight, just a fishing line, hook and bait. He immediately hooked and reeled in a rainbow trout, which he proudly displayed for a picture and threw back into the river.

Afterwards, we each took a turn. Alex showed us how to wrap the fishing line around the fingers of our left hand, while using our right hand to fling the end of the hook into the water. While none of us were as skilled as Alex, we each managed a perfect cast. The school headmaster even hooked his own trout.

Back up the Mountain

As the sun began to set over the river valley, we mounted up and started the ride back to the stables. We rode single file up the side of the mountain. Every once in a while, Alex stopped to show us peculiarities of the forest; sap from a rubber tree, the flowers of the durable Balsa tree and the call of a toucan.

Then we galloped. Two by two, we bounced up and down on our horses charging up the mountain. Every 100 yards we stopped to catch our breath (and our balance), then started up again until we reached the top.

Back at the Stables

After we got off the horses, Alex took us to a nearby stable. He opened a wooden door and called out into the dim light. A colt, only two months old, reared its head and clumsily walked toward the cowboy. Petting the young horse Alex told us, "The world changes and the cowboys change."

The colt nibbled at his shirt while I asked for his email for the blog. He just laughed and said cowboys "don't have emails."

Selva Leona Waterfall Hike: Part 2

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 04:30:00 EDT

We dismounted our horses in a small clearing around low forest shrub and windswept trees. Nixon Villalobos, one of my guides, led the horses to an overflowing water trough. By this time, Nixon's two small dogs had caught up to us. They danced around the perimeter inspecting the edges of the forest.

A hundred yards up the hill, we found the camp; a stubbly-wooden yurt with a tin roof. The front entrance was open to the valley below. In the center stood a rough-wooden table surrounded by stools buried into the dirt floor. I drank from a bottle of water while Fermin and Nixon told me about the wildlife they've seen living in their rainforest preserve; animals with names like blue-crowned motmot, great currasow and coatimundi.

Afterwards, Nixon and I walked out the back of the camp on a trail curving into the dense overgrowth of the rainforest while Fermin stayed behind to cook lunch.

Descending into the Forest

The dogs wove through the jungle while we walked along the trail. Every so often they would disappear among the trees, only to jump out at a switchback. When the trail narrowed and hillside was too steep, the dogs hiked between us, bouncing down the steps and prancing across the small wooden bridges.

A heavy shade fell over us as we hiked beneath thick ceilings of foliage. Nixon stopped to peer through the undergrowth. In the distance, splashes of falling whitewater appeared between the tree branches.

Another hundred yards down a steep, muddy descent we reached the river bottom; the congress of two small streams sweating in the midst of the old growth rainforest. The water trickled between the mossy rocks and fallen logs that wove paths through streams. Together, Nixon, the dogs and I jumped from rock to rock, stepping single file across partially submerged logs, like a high wire act. In front of us, the waterfall cascaded thirty feet into the stream below.

We sat down near the waterfall's base and enjoyed the cool mist. Around us, life clung to every stone. Plants wrapped around themselves in double helixes growing out the side of the miniature gorge. Trees hung over the flowing mineral water, their root systems exposed along the walls of the gorge, creeping downward. Every vibrant green fiber seemed to reach for the falls, bowing toward them as if praying to a natural altar.

After a time, we turned back leaving behind the rapture of the falls and the forest.

Lunch at Camp

By the time we got back to the camp, Fermin had prepared a cowboy's feast; blackened chicken served on golden fried tortillas, black beans, tortilla chips and fried plantains smothered in healthy dollops of Salsa Lizano. While we ate, Fermin recounted the serendipitous tale of how he had met Leo and started tours at Selva Leona.

The Ride Back

After lunch, we climbed on our horses and rode back toward the farmhouse deep in the valley below. Crossing over the ridge we'd passed only hours before, the morning's mist had burned off in the midday sun. Lake Arenal's dark mineral waters reflected blue skies and cotton-tuft clouds. We looked out over the lake and rippling hills then descended into the scattered textiles of pastureland that make up the Selva Leona Ranch.

Selva Leona Waterfall Hike: Part 1

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 05:00:00 EDT

The Villalobos family has lived the last 80 years on a ranch between Lake Arenal and Montverde. Their 250 acres seep into centuries old primary rainforest and percolate across straw-colored hills. For decades, the Selva Leona ranch saw no one except the family.

In the intervening time, the world around the ranch transformed. Travelers the world over came to experience the primordial creativity Arenal's volcano and rainforest. Hotels were erected, zip lines were strung, and 'eco-tourism' became the economic buzz word.

Things changed at the ranch when Fermin Villalobos met Godfried Ponteur, a nearby hotel owner. Godfried wanted to show his hotel guests the untouched beauty of Costa Rica, but wanted to find the perfect locale. Fermin was happy to oblige him and together they formed an alliance. Godfried booked tours while Fermin escorted guests through the family's pastures and rainforest to the waterfalls.

Getting to the Farm

I departed from La Mansion Inn Arenal on a boat ride across the unruffled waters of Lake Arenal glittering in the sunrise. I met my tour guides, Fermin and his son Nixon, on the opposing lakeshore. Together we drove through the town of Viejo Arenal – the surviving half of a town submerged during the creation of the lake. The dirt roads bequeathed scenes of Arenal's past where fences divided the land into pastures and cows mindlessly chewed cud.

At Selva Leona Ranch, the family had already saddled the horses. Teenagers in rubber boots ran around with pails of feed. Nearby, a man sat at a stool milking a cow.

Into the Hills

We left on horseback riding upward along a dirt road deep into the family's land. Behind us, two dogs yipped and scuffled, eager to follow us. From his horse, Nixon called back to the dogs to stay at the farm; and after a time they seemed to obey.

We plotted through a river valley surrounded on both sides by smooth hills and pastures. Occasionally, we passed the fingers of old leafless trees slumped under the weight overgrown bromeliads; alive with the sounds of golden-tailed Oropendulas making their long, hanging nests.

After crossing through two small streams and a gate we began ascending the hills. We followed the switchbacks of a narrow trail forged years before by the pounding of horse hooves. The morning mist clung to the air. Low clouds cast a pale light over Lake Arenal. In the valley below, two dogs romped across a stream; tracking us.

We rode out along a ridge that divided the land between the amber pastures and the dense uniformity of the rainforest canopies. Low clouds curled in the air above the rainforest. Nixon told me that his family's forest bordered with the Monteverde cloud forest but our conversation drifted with the scenery; my broken Spanish not adequate to explain my intrigue as we rode into the timberlands.