The night was shrouded
in mist as we walked along the trail to the summit of the mountain
ridge. It sinks precipitously away, giving great nighttime views
of Arenal volcano when skies are clear. Several times during the
day we could hear it rumble and roar, yet with clouds thick and
stubborn, tucked up tight to the mountain like a blanket to the
chin of a sleeping child, the volcano could only be heard and not
seen.
With head lamps slicing the night we hit the trail in search of something new
and exotic: this is easy to do here. (although it will not necessarily be something
cute and fuzzy). I have been tracked by tigers in Malaysia and leopards in Kenya.
I've been chased by itinerant elephants in Tanzania and pummeled by testy temple
monkeys in Thailand, but when the visibility is reduced to twenty feet from thick
fog swirling about your feet, the imagination start to swim around in the mind,
and every shadow hides undiscovered monsters with slimy skin and webbed feet.
This is when I whisper to the group to turn off their head lamps and put on their
blindfolds.
After lining them up in single file I begin giving instructions. Using the simple
but useful tool of whispering, I am able to catch everyone's full attention.
Each person is to reach back and take the hand of the person behind them. Using
a red filter on my head lamp so as not to frighten creatures nor destroy my "night
eyes", I began leading them ahead slowly. By blindfolding them, they are
about to embark on a journey through the rain forest using all those senses they
had previously ignored. "When we enter the night with a flashlight, we learn
the light. When we enter the black of the night, we learn the night."
Step by step we creep along as tink frogs "tinked" and katydids saw
away at the night. For the first 100 meters they are allowed to whisper to the
person behind them,warning of hazards ahead, but next, they are to be silent
for another 100 meters of jungle travel. Then, as an added task in acclimatization,
I instruct them to remove their blind folds, turn on their lamps, cover their
ears and follow me.
I take off running through the forest, swallowed up by mist and darkness, sending
creatures scurrying and hearts pounding. It is during this activity that most
people realize they are fully alive and really far from home.
With all outside noises blocked, a journey within yourself becomes impossible
to avoid. Our silent breathing becomes an audible wind storm, the ignored heart
becomes so loud we are suddenly reminded of its years of ceaseless loyalty.
Gathering
at a platform perched on a mountain ridge, we remove our hands from our ears
and take a minute to listen to the night sounds once again. I offer
up a few simple questions. "Which activity did you find to be the most difficult?" Slowly
people begin sharing their experiences. "I thought walking blind folded
and talking was more difficult than being silent." Another says "It
was confusing trying to imagine what might be ahead when someone is saying what
is coming next.". Again another voice. "When we were silent I seemed
to focus on my feet and not the other person". Then I pose another question. "Did
anyone hear the forest noises after they began walking blind folded?" Most
chimed in: "No! It was like all the forest noises stopped. I became so aware
of my foot steps that I did not notice the night sounds anymore."How many
of us are so focused on the task at hand that we do not notice the budding trees,
the singing birds and the laughing child? Right now as you read this newsletter,
can you say for sure if there is a blue sky to the east? Is there a robin building
a nest under your eve? I think one reason why these trips can be so powerful
for people is the fact we become "time rich," taking time to notice
those things around us, as well as those personal whispers deep within our true
beings.
There was a time when these special moments really mattered, when young people
were "initiated" under the guidance of "wisemen" and "wisewomen." It
is a common desire to feel we need to re-shuffle life's cards when we take the
time to listen, I mean REALLY listen to the heart. Today's lifestyles, work,
and other commitments have a way of making us walk blindfolded, deaf and unaware
of our surroundings? Are we just too busy to see the forest for the trees? So,
what about that sky to the east?
Accidental Reserve
For those of you who have been following the Global Classroom project you are
aware of our fund raising campaign for purchasing and protecting critical forested
land in Costa Rica. We have traversed as many legal hills and valleys with lawyers
as we have literal hills and valleys on foot while seeking the perfect property
to create a biological reserve and educational center.
Our journey had taken us through many months of legal wrangling in our attempt
to secure a deed for the land we had chosen for the project. Only in the final
days of negotiations was it discovered that this land had been placed under a
conservation decree by the government and could not be titled, nor could it be
cut or "improved." This was as much a surprise to the land owner as
it was to us. Though initially we were disappointed, in the end we realized it
was a blessing. By researching the deed we managed to create a small reserve:
it is now registered with the government under a conservation decree and must
remain pristine.
After visiting this site and being told it could not be sold, we left the land
and headed to San Jose to prepare for our flight back to the United States. It
was there, in a tiny unfrequented guest house that I met the legendary Wilfred
Quindon, (one of the original Quakers who had moved to Costa Rica in the early
1950's.) Having spent so many years in and around the mountainous regions of
Monteverde, Wilfred is a walking, talking library of information (literally!
At twice my age he can still do 10 jungle miles in a day while telling story
after story).
Not revealing to him our desire to purchase and protect land in Costa Rica, I
spread out a map and asked him what areas he felt were absolutely critical to
save. Without hesitation he pointed to the northwest slopes of the continental
divide around Monteverde. When I asked him why, he said three words. THE GOLDEN
TOAD!!
I had now heard that phrase three times in 24 hours... they say there is no such
thing as coincidence, and I was beginning to believe it. Just 12 hours before
our meeting I had been on a "mini expedition" with another naturalist
to see a piece of land that was for sale. This land was legally titled, very
wild and most importantly it was 100% virgin rain and cloud forest. This land
is home to 4 species of cat, three species of monkey, several hundred species
of orchid and birds, tapir and yes, the Golden toad. As it turns out, the Golden
toad was last seen in this very area over 8 years ago. (see "Flirting with Extinction")
Our mini expedition was a major educational trip into some of the most pristine
forests I have ever seen. At one point I happened to look down and right there
by our feet, only minutes old, there were jaguar tracks. It had been standing
right there on the trail. (I could see where it had slipped into the greenery
after sensing us coming up over the rise) We new it was there, somewhere, watching
us.
We hiked on, coming to a panoramic view of the mountains and valleys that lay
before us. Our eyes scanned the land that has never heard a power saw, never
felt an axe. The scary thing is, the lungs of the earth are for sale! These mountains
and valleys, rivers and trees were now on the market. I have never felt so driven
to accomplish a task.. We will preserve this land!! We were very excited to hear
that the land owner had heard of our project and agreed to sell his property
for the same price as the original piece. An amazing $450 and acre. As with the
original piece we were seeking to purchase, this one is also bordered by parks
on three sides and consists of virgin cloud and rain forest.
I stood still, eyes closed, letting the damp cool air wrap around me as my feet
sank into the wet soil. The Quetzals were calling, mists were swirling and butterflies
were everywhere. This year millions of acres of virgin forest will be lost forever.
This is one forest we plan to keep standing. As of press time we have received
notice the final stages of the purchase are underway with payment due August
1999.
With the new tract being twice the size of the original, we do not have the funds
needed to acquire the entire property. We will be securing 123 acres with "right
of first refusal" on the remaining piece. This is the moment we have been
working so hard to reach for over 5 years. If you would like to help us protect
this entire piece of critical habitat please send donations ASAP to the Global
Classroom land fund. Remember every little bit helps.
Flirting with Extinction
The forest swayed under the hand of the brisk winds racing up the pacific slopes,
her fingers slipping between every limb and moss covered branch before inching
it's way into my jacket. I pulled my hood over my head, pushing soaked and clinging
hair from my dripping face. By the looks of me you would think I had been walking
for hours in a torrential down pour, but as a matter of fact it has not rained
here in two days. In the cloud forest it does not need to rain to soak you to
the bone: it is constantly blanketed in dense cloud, everything is dripping with
moisture.
We were now traveling through the transition zone between upland montane rain
forest and the sprawling Atlantic lowlands. We had been hiking for hours along
long ridges, fording rock strewn rivers and up torturous hillsides hoping to
get a glimpse of the Golden Toad (bufo periglenes) The trail had started out
as a fairly well defined game trail used by jaguar, tapir, brocket deer and peccary,
but has faded, forcing us onto the path of least resistance.
The golden toad, one of thousands of rare species found only along a short stretch
of mountain ridge in Costa Rica, would normally gather to breed in pools left
by the spring rains. Though they would gather in huge groups, they were still
considered rare. Before we can understand rarity we must understand what is meant
by the word. Uncommon will not do as a definition.
Most naturalists share an interest in things which are "rare." Although
we tend to value rarity, there are specific reasons rarity attracts our attention
in regards to rain forest species. There is a commonness to rarity there. I realize
that sounds like a contradiction, but tropical forests are full of species represented
by small numbers in any given location. This is an inevitable consequence of
high species diversity. Luckily, there are some guidelines used by researchers
to establish the rarity of a species. How great is its geographic range, how
restricted is its habitat choice and how abundant is it in its habitat?
Along these rugged ridges in which we are hiking, there is a narrow patch of
moss covered mountain that is the perfect rain catching device. After the first
heavy Easter rains, the golden toad would gather in the clear pools in search
of a mate. It was known to breed only in the temporary pools that form along
the continental divide, and during it's explosive breeding episodes it was quite
abundant: the pools swarming with them. However, in terms of geography and total
population, this toad is surely one of the rarest. All of it's unique golden
glory is contained in perhaps a single square kilometer of mountain ridge. It
exists no where else on earth. This toad is a classic example of endemic rarity.
The vulnerability of such endemic species to even minor habitat modification
is high. If this small area was cleared or altered in anyway this little gem
would plummet into the abyss of extinction like so many other species. Tropical
mountain tops are like islands: they favor the creation of new species because
their isolation separates populations from a previously wide spread gene pool.
Damp, cool environments make dispersal and interbreeding impossible because of
hot, dry lowlands separating the mountain tops. Geographically restricted endemics
like the golden toad are more at risk than the big fierce rarities that not only
have appeal and charisma but also a wide geographic range. If mass extinction's
from human interference are to be avoided, it is necessary to map and protect
critical areas such as the area we are attempting to purchase for the Global
Classroom property.
Rare species also attract the attention of naturalists because they are sensitive
indicators of change. To be rare is to flirt with extinction. There is, in fact,
a strong possibility that the golden toad is now extinct. In spite of extensive
searching by biologists, no golden toad has been seen in over 8 years. It is
my hope that somewhere out there, in some remote corner of this property, there
is a clear moss filled pool turned to gold by these beautiful creatures.
The Tayra
Eira barbara
The tyra is a chocolate brown colored mammal that is found in Costa Rica below
2,000 meters and ranges from central Mexico to tropical southern South America.
Adults are the size of a large house cat, weighing about 5 Kg. The Tyra resembles
a large mink with a long bushy tail and thin, lanky body. The body hair is short
and the skin underneath is heavily pigmented. They also have a strong mustelid
odor.
Tayras are terrestrial and arboreal foragers but are not known to search in water.
When foraging on the forest floor they are very inquisitive, inspecting every
nook and crannie, using their keen sight and sensitive nose to find birds nests,
carrion, lizards, fruits and eggs. They are usually active in the day time and
sleep at night. As do weasals and minks, the Tayra leaves it scat on obvious "marker
posts" along trails, such as rocks, stumps and other prominant sites.
Tayras give birth to up to five young in dens of varying sizes: two to three
cubic feet in volume is common. They seek out den sites in old tree stumps, rocky
out crops and seasonal stream beds.
From the Bird Sighting List
This very region in Costa Rica is a destination for bird-watchers from all over
the world. Over 600 bird species are perminant residents of Costa Rica, and in
April we listened to the forest resounding in song. From the upper canopies the
brightly colored species such as the the Resplendant Quetzal and the BellBird
called out unabashedly: how could it be that an enourmous red, white and green
bird can be so difficult to see? Most colorful tropical species carry their bright
plumage throughout the year, and male and females are very similarly clothed.
Fluttering and hidden around us in the lower canopies and on the ground, were
the more subdued, but musically appealing wood thrushes, winter wrens and woodcreepers.
In addition there were several species of Tanager, Warbler and even the Orange
Bellied Trogan. One of the most striking sights of the trip occurred as we emerged
from 11 hours of hiking in the rainforest, a White hawk perched high in a sea
of green.
Here are just a few of the 202 birds species we saw: |
