Written by Mateo Pomilia, Round River Latin America Director
Photos by Susie Dain-Owens, Associate Director of Student Programs
Costa Rica is widely regarded as the poster child for democracy in Central America, a nation unburdened by many of the destructive (both social and environmental) forces that have afflicted this region in modern history. Costa Rica is often lauded for its national conservation ethic, and its commitment to protecting some of the richest areas for biodiversity remaining in Central America. And, yet, the conservation challenges in Costa Rica are as real and present as anywhere. Over the coming days, weeks, months, and years Round River is committed to understanding these challenges, and standing tall before them.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Over the course of two weeks in January and February of this year, Round River took that step in developing its new Costa Rica Conservation Program, by sending myself and Associate Director of Student Programs, Susie Dain-Owens, down to Costa Rica on assignment. Here we met with partner organizations, tackled logistics, and began the process of integrating Round River into Costa Rica’s complex ethno-biosphere.
Following the usual pleasantries that accompany arrival into any bustling metropolis (in this case Costa Rica’s capital city of San José) Susie and I set our sights high upon one of Costa Rica’s most unique and well-visited volcanoes. We enter Poás National Park for the first of what will be many stops to the country’s renowned Sistema Nacional de Áreas de Conservación (National Conservation Areas) just in the nick of time, but not the right time to see the 1.3 km wide caldera, which is the Park’s main attraction. The exhilarating mist rising up out of thin air is refreshing consolation, and deadens the magnetic force of urbanity which is overlooking Costa Rica’s Central Valley.
The day following, at nearby La Paz Waterfall Gardens, we died and went to hummingbird heaven! The “hummies” (as Susie affectionately refers to them) flit, dive and race past our faces, and feed prodigiously from Susie’s sugarwater plastic flower. No sudden movements! Lest their tireless and delicate wings be damaged. Of an incredible 57 hummingbird species that occur in Costa Rica, 26 can reportedly be seen right here. During our short visit we observe several, including the Green Hermit, Violet Sabrewing, Coppery-headed Emerald, and Purple-throated Mountain-gem!
Green-Crowned Brilliants at the hand-held feeder
Our next destination is a tract of rainforest known unelaborately as “Bosque Lluvioso.” The Bosque was purchased by American non-profit Pax Natura (co-founded by RR Board member Randall Tolpinrud) in 1996, and then deeded to Costa Rica’s Instituto Nacional de Biodiversidad (National Biodiversity Institute) thereafter. We tour the sumptuous hills of this 448-acre property, which may one day serve as a field site for Round River, with pseudo-Ranger/Caretaker William. Though we don’t see much in the way of higher beings (only a small deer track), little forest frogs are plentiful here, darting in and out of the forest’s heavy leaf litter. Of a presumed five species that we encounter, we positively identify three: the Rain Frog, the Green and Black Poison Frog, and the Strawberry Poison Frog.
The suspension bridge leading across the Rio Costa Rica to Bosque Lluvioso’s field headquarters
Having consummated our visit to the Bosque with a generous helping of caña (sugar cane), we re-trace our steps back over the Bosque’s hanging bridge, perched mystically over the flowing waters of the Rio Costa Rica. We return to the Central Valley on the sinuous San José-Limón highway, and then plunge south towards the coast. In the heat of the afternoon, we stop at Manuel Antonio National Park, a postage stamp of dry tropical forest, an ecosystem now rare along the Pacific lowlands. Here a boardwalk trail leads to a sheltered beach, where a dizzying array of humanity wades into the ocean’s salty bathwater and feeds White-faced Capuchins next to signs that read “Do not feed the monkeys”. On the walk to the beach we glimpse Brocket Deer and Iguana on the forest floor, and Two-toed Sloth in the canopy.
After stopping over in Puerto Jiménez, the Osa Peninsula’s largest port and jumping off point for expeditions into Osa’s green interior, we arrive to Conservación Osa’s (CO) main research camp at Piro. Susie and I are given the grand tour by Director of Operations, Max Villalobos, and Programs Director, Renee McKeon, who lead us to magnificent ocean views, over tide pool rivers, and through towering old-growth forests. Max’s enthusiasm is contagious as he shows us around CO’s tree nursery, which is home to seedlings of around 50 different tree species, all native, which are used in CO’s elegant restoration scheme at their Osa Verde property. In the waning afternoon hours we hike the forest loop, admiring the stately Ajo trees (some dedicated in memoriam to the forest’s greatest heroes, who include Álvaro Ugalde, the Costa Rican “Father of Conservation”) and checking camera traps, which reveal that Puma and Ocelot recently passed through here.
Playa Piro, on the Pacific Coast of the Osa Peninsula.
The next morning is an early one inspired by Sea Turtle patrols. We see no Sea Turtles along the 2 km stretch of beach we patrol, but we do encounter a bevy of fresh tracks and a few nests (some predated). Sea Turtles are at the heart of one of CO’s longest-standing research projects, in what is now a collaborative effort between CO, eco-tourism operators, and researchers along the length of the coast.
After breakfast we make the peninsula-long trek to Lomas del Sierpe, a CO property acquired, among other things, for its strategic location at the headwaters of the regionally-important Térraba-Sierpe mangrove/wetlands complex. Max, Renee, Susie and I go for a short hike on red clay earth trails carved masterfully by Guardaparque (Ranger) Miguel. This is another prospective study site for RR, and one which essentially offers a blank canvas in terms of scientific inquiry. Upon our return to Piro, we detain briefly at the Rincón River to bird, exalting at sights of a Roseate Spoonbill and Little Blue Heron, and even an aquatic Iguana. As we sit at the Marisquería in Puerto Jiménez overlooking the tranquil Golfo Dulce, and enjoying a delicious ceviche and fried Red Snapper dinner, I am struck by the beauty and simplicity of this place, and the grace of my companions.
We celebrate our final day at CO by tromping around in Rio Piro as we learn about CO’s exemplary stream monitoring program from Science Director, Dr. Jim Palmer. Stream monitoring is Jim’s passion – it’s a story of a native Pennsylvanian paying it forward in local Osa communities through an outreach program known as Rios Saludables. And why not? In the heat of a tropical day, there’s nowhere cooler to be.
Mateo and Dr. Palmer discussing stream ecology in a tributary to Rio Piro
No trip to the Osa is complete without a foray into Corcovado National Park. Considered the “crown jewel” of the national Parks system, Corcovado is the largest National Park in all of Costa Rica. Susie, myself and our young but experienced local Guía (Guide), Maikol, arrive to the trailhead near La Leona Station just as the sun begins to burn fiercely. We take the trail as it meanders west, moving between the beach and coconut-studded coastal forests. Over the first few miles, the forest displays clear signs of historical habitation, a remnant from the people who made a living here before the park was established in 1975.
Even with the onset of the dry season, the area is teeming with life – Scarlet Macaws, several troops of Geoffroy’s Spider Monkeys, Howler Monkeys, Squirrel Monkeys, crab-digging White-nosed Coatis, Tamandua Anteater, Agouti of course, and a great many birds. The crown jewel of our expedition is a sighting of three Puma! A mother and two near-yearling cubs, who we find lazing in a dry creek bed halfway between La Leona and Sirena stations. The Puma are majestic even in repose, intense wisdom beaming from their wild yellow-green eyes. We move on, approaching a sizeable lagoon held separate from the sea by a sand embankment; inside the lagoon we spot an adult American Crocodile lurking just above waterline. We amble through a few kms more of canopy forest, arriving to Sirena station well before dark. We fill up (as always) on rice and beans, and coffee. In this modest enclave of civilization, we are just about in the middle the of one of the wildest places in Costa Rica. Not to miss the party, a Baird’s Tapir appears shortly after nightfall, grazing at the edge between the grass airstrip and forest perhaps 100 meters from where I sit at Sirena.
Resting puma in Corcovado National Park
The next morning we wake before dawn, eager to get up and moving, equally eager to abandon our haphazard living quarters and shake off a hot, restless night. We saunter out towards the beach and jog over to Rio Sirena, where we sit on a log poised to behold nature’s morning theater. Sure enough, the faint waxing light reveals a figure wading out into the river. It’s another Tapir, smaller and shier than the one we saw last night. We take our time on the hike out, enjoying the scenery and all the little details. In a perfect finale, Maikol invites us into his one-of-a-kind open-air home for a hot, hot cup of coffee.
There is, and has been for some time now, a great deal of interest in conserving the Osa Peninsula and all its living treasures. There have been other interests here as well. Frankly, a lot is happening in this changing (but staying the same) environment. But now’s no time to rest on laurels, certainly not for Round River. Now is the time to enter into this complex story of a rich land, where rich and poor people look for ways to exist and coexist as stewards of the Earth. Nothing is promised – even in this extraordinary place there are ordinary threats from deforestation and mining, not to speak of climate. But with good people from organizations like Pax Natura and Conservación Osa and many others on our side, it’s easy to feel good about where our forest path is leading…
