La Fortuna

  One thing I have found about the mountainous region of Guanacaste, Costa Rica is that no matter what local feature you are looking at, it almost always ends in a waterfall. The area where we are staying gets 200 inches of rain a year, (that translates to about 17 feet of rain a year). The number goes up as you travel around Lake Arenal toward Mount Arenal, one of the ten most active volcanoes on Earth...(more about that another day). The volcano and the rain forest both create their own weather, so the daily weather report is virtually useless. One thing is certain, when it comes to the weather here in the area around the lake... it will rain sometime today. Maybe all day, maybe while the sun is shining (rainbow time!!), maybe in fits and spurts, or after the sun goes down, but it will rain. That brings me back to the real point I am trying to make, there are a lot of waterfalls in this part of Guanacaste. All that water has to go somewhere. So it runs from the canopy to the ground, the ground soaks in as much as it can but the majority runs down hill to the nearest river, which then cuts its way through craggy rocks and over land falls to become some pretty awesome waterfalls. The waterfall de jour is the La Fortuna Waterfall.

A view of Lake Arenal from the road

  My husband and I and our 11 guests made our way from Tilaran to La Fortuna by bus early in the morning. The winds were up but the skies were clear. The view of the lake was lovely with the sun shining on the water. You could see the water being whipped up into white caps by the strong Tilawa winds. The wind mills on the ridge of the mountains around the lake are whirring away, generating electricity that will supply the locals with power. This is a familiar view for my husband and I, since we lived on a mountain top right across the valley from a row of wind turbines, but for the group visiting us it was a first. Unfortunately, there is no good place on this twisty turny road to pull a bus off for a photo op, so we continue on around the lake. We pass by the quaint pueblo of Rio Piedras, (Rock River), and Aguacate, (Avacado), and then on to Nuevo Arenal, which is a slightly larger community with a delightful German Bakery and some tourist traps that sell souveniers. From this point on to La Fortuna it is mostly just unimpeded views of the lake and rolling mountains on one side and jungle on the other. It is only 52 kilometers fromTilaran to La Fortuna, (about 33 miles) but takes more than 1 1/2 hours to get there due to the curvy roads and poor road conditions in some areas. Except for those who had to deal with motion sickness no one seemed to mind the time it took to get around the lake.

  La Fortuna's most famous attraction is Arenal Volcano which looms large on the scene, jutting 3000 feet above the surrounding lanscape. But today we are not able to see the volcano as it is wreathed in a thick layer of clouds and will remain so all day. Fortunately, today we are here to see the waterfall and for some of the more intrepid souls on our trip, a hike (scramble, climb, crawl, grapple) up to the smaller, dormant volcano Cerro Chato... Later in the week we will return to La Fortuna to view the volcano and go to the hot springs. Hopefully Arenal will oblige us by showing itself when we return.

Stairs down to the rocky beach

The descent to the La Fortuna water fall is steep, but there are very solid steps and a rail most of the way down so it is possible for most people to make it down to the falls. I am still gimping on an injured knee so it is slow going for me and I definitely will not be trying Cerro Chato with the rest of the group. I enjoyed all the foliage and the birds that called back and forth and flit through the scene as I make my way to the bottom. I would love to just park myself on the stairs and take it all in for awhile, but there is a time table to be met today, so I continue on.
  At the base of the stairs there is a  mirada, (a look out platform), where you can get a really nice view of the falls and the pool below.

La Fortuna waterfall

Around the bend and down a little further there is a little rock beach and a safe place to wade out into the river below the falls. I spent the majority of my time in this area, watching the birds and marveling at the great heights of the rain forest above me. I hung my backpack on one of the several hooks that were screwed into a railing at the base of a giant tree and waded out in the water to get a better view of the dense foliage clad mountains that loomed above. The water was brisk in speed and temperature and felt great running past my tired feet and sore knee.

The water rushes over these rocks and then quiets down to become a pool safe for wading in.

  By the time I was ready to make my way back to the top, our hikers had returned from making a run at Cerro Chato. It is a difficult hike, even for experienced hikers. So they were grateful for a less demanding trail and the cooling water of the falls. Once they were down I began my slow climb to the top... step with the left foot, bring up the right, being careful not to anger my knee by putting any strain on it. I am glad that I am alone so there is no one to witness my ascent.
   We made our way back around the lake just in time to witness the sunset over the lake. The sky splashed its lovely pinks and oranges onto the face of the lake where they dissolved and faded into the depths. The sun sets quickly in this part of the world but puts on a lovely, if brief show for those fortunate enough to be there for it.
  There are no words to describe how my heart swells with love for this place. There is so much life, so many wonders that the dense forest keeps secret, only to share with those who are willing to brave its depths. The strong Tilawa winds sing songs of the power of volcanos and the goodness of the lush misty rain forest that is home to hundreds of species of living things. As the wind blows my hair into tangles and moves on down towards the lake it carries my heart's song along with it, a song sung to God for creating such a place.
  

Letters Back Home

  The weather here has been overcast and and it is too chilly to spend time outside. Sigh... It is days like today that make me miss our mountain top in Costa Rica. Since I was feeling a little homesick, I went back through the "letters" that I mailed home to friends and family. Actually, they weren't letters, they were e-mails that I sent out periodically so that everyone at home would have a chance to share our adventure with us. The mail system in Costa Rica proved to be less than dependable so I wrote letters and sent them by e-mail.

  Here is an exerpt from one of those letters back home:

November 23, 2009

  The neighbor's rooster has a death wish...he stands at the window to our bedroom starting at 5 a.m. and crows at 5 minute intervals until he successfully aggravates me enough that I jump out of bed, fling the back door open, and shout threats at his tail feathers as he makes his retreat through the fence to the safety of his own back yard. He must start running when he hears my feet hit the floor, so that by the time I get the backdoor open he is safely out of reach. With my sleep sufficiently disturbed, I have little hope of going back to sleep, but I don't need to be on my feet until 6 or so. I spend the minutes between the last rooster crow and the time I need to get up laying in the early morning light, listening to the chorus of birds strike up their morning repertoire. This is one of the joys of my day. During this time of year though, the birds have competition for my attention; the winds are changing direction from Atlantic to Pacific and the resulting turbulence makes for some impressive wind gusts. These gusts are particularly ferocious in the early morning, drowning out bird song and with the bedroom window open, practically blowing the covers off the bed. So after relishing the serenade of the birds and the sensation of the sheets flapping in my face like clothes on a clothesline, I haul myself upright and begin my day in earnest.

  My first official act is to determine the "uniform of the day". It is rainy season here in the tropics, that means wear clothes that dry fast. I have a wide selection of clothing choices (not), I can wear my "wet" weather gear, which consists of a polyester tank top, lightweight jeans, tube socks and high top rubber muck boots, or I can wear my "very wet" weather gear, which is the "wet" weather ensemble with the addition of a rain jacket. Either outfit is going to be soaking wet in a matter of minutes, so for the most part, I just stick to my "wet" weather gear. 

Bella

Bull

  Once dressed, we are all out the door to tend to our first tasks of the day. For Daniel or Erin, (whoever is taking on the grass) it is to the bodega for safety gear and a honking Husqavarna weed-whacker. For me and whoever didn't claim the weed-whacker, it is to the animal pens, to feed and locate the animals on the grass for the day. Due to a resident jaguar, the calves and goats must be put in a pen at night and then pastured during the day. The goats go out on tethers that are staked to the ground with long pieces of bent rebar. They will spend the day eating a perfect circle in the grass, as they walk to the extent of their reach and eat the grass to a nub, leaving the rest of the grass untouched. sigh.... The calves remain in the pen until after they have their grain and their bottles. I usually get the job of feeding the babies while my partner puts the goats out for the day. It is a job tailor made for a mom. The process of feeding calves is much like feeding children, first put the food in front of them and then referee while they squabble over who is going to eat out of who's bowl, then break up the fight that ensues when one decides to "win" the bucket they want to eat from by sucking their siblings ear, thus depositing copious quantities of grain (and slobber) into said ear. Somewhere in the process both buckets get turned over and the grain is spilled and trampled. So it must be time for the bottles... this process is a contact sport...never,never,never, get in the pen with the baby bottles, that is unless you like being mobbed, butted, jostled and slimed with cow poo and saliva. It is advisable to stand on the outside of the rebar-clad pen and feed the little darlings through the fence, thus postponing the mobbing, butting, jostling and sliming until it is time to put them on the pasture...

   I am glad that I wrote these letters back home. It would have been easy to be too busy to write, with all that there was to see and do, but I felt like it was important to share the story with those we left in the states. Now that we are back and life lacks the unique aspects of living 50 feet from the rainforest, with the tenth most active volcano on earth being visible from our front yard, it is nice to be able to pull them out and read them again. I can almost feel the Tilawa wind on may face...

  If you would like to read more about our Costa Rican adventure, go to http://www.aviewfromthecottage.blogspot.com/ , look at the tabs below the title banner and click where it says " Our Costa Rican Adventure". It will take you to a static page where I have posted the letters back home. I hope you enjoy our adventure! Until next time! 

Blog hops this post is linked to:
Clever Chicks Blog Hop #24