Father's Day Blog

Father’s Day in Costa Rica started with a walk this morning passed the local cemetery where they were holding a Father’s Day service. Respect for the dead seemed a bit at odds with the use of the above ground crypts as something to lean against.

This afternoon our neighbors held a Father's Day barbeque (the first time we've seen a cookout) and watching a futbol game on TV. At least the cheers and jeers didn't sound like they were watching golf.

We now have functioning internet, cell phones, and cable TV. All we need now is our box with our belongings, and we will be all set. It has been 3 weeks to the day since we arrived. In some respects it seems like much longer but in others the time has flown by.

Yesterday our adventure plan was to head to Baurilo Carrillo National Park. The maps and internet suggested that there were a number of interesting things to do there, including an aerial tram through the rain forest. As soon as we started driving, our intrepid GPS companion kept interjecting that there was a traffic jam ahead. “He” repeatedly recalculated the route, which would have sent us around three sides of a rectangle and taken 4 hours, instead of the direct one hour route. So Nancy politely shut “him” up, and we followed the map, only to find ourselves at the end of a seemingly endless line of trucks parked on our side of the two lane highway. I guess there was a traffic jam. Our truculent GPS friend then refused to speak to us, but not deterred, we headed for a different park entrance. Reluctantly, he offered up that we would encounter an unpaved road ahead. Right again. After innumerable switchbacks following a slow moving smelly diesel truck up the mountain, the road turned to little more than a bumpy washed out cart path. Nancy, being of the delicate sort and tiring of the rough ascent and fumes, was about to pitch me out of the driver’s seat, along with her breakfast, when we encountered a local farmer out walking his two dogs and cow. The rambunctious cow decided it was “game on” and began to out run the RAV4 (which at this point was in low gear and 4WD). We were both amused and impressed by the cow, but it may explain why Costa Rican “carne de vaca” is a bit tougher than we’re used to.
The park ranger directed us to a wide spot in the road to leave the car near the entrance. Our brief "Spanglish" conversation seemed to elicit his pity after we proudly explained that we lived in Belen, so he charged us the Tico entry fee of 2000 Colones ($4) instead of the tourist rate of $16. He showed us where to hike, and we headed off with great expectations.

As you can see from the pictures, the forest is incredibly dense, so much so that it is apparent that only animals that travel by air, tree or on their bellies survive here.
After about an hour of hiking uphill along a soggy path in the lush thicket, we came to a sign promising that Barva Lago was just 200 meters ahead. After another half hour’s climb, the Nancy decided that the distance must have been 200 “Phil-o-meters” (the ever expanding metric distance of a hike – units for measuring a Troop 570 Phil hike).

We now have a better appreciation of why they call it a rain forest. As we returned to the car, the continual mist of the clouds coalesced into a heavy down pour for the last 200 "Phil-o-meters", so we drove back down the “creek” in our wet clothes, regretting that once again, we forgot to take the scenic pictures of the valley below on the way up when it was clear.