Cerro Chatto Adventure

Chatto is the cluster of mountains just south of Volcan Arenal. From downtown La Fortuna, they resemble a sleeping man with a round nose, a large belly and an erection. At the top of Chatto is a lagoon. I scaled the mountain to reach it Wednesday.


The Circa de Cataratas ends less than a kilometer away from the Abercam resort in an open stable and a parking lot with several squat brown buildings. The Chatto trailhead is up the hill to the right.

Butterfly weed, white ginger, torch ginger, ornamental bananas, plumerias, and several other recognizable cultivars flanked the circuitous route to the trailhead. I crossed a lichen covered log bridge.

A network of slick grasses are perhaps the best way to keep the muddy hillside from erroding. The barbed wire fences bordering them, however, are dangerous for those who slip, so I took extra caution in this area.

After 45 minutes, I reached the trailhead. The views of downtown La Fortuna and environs were most impressive here. A sign suggested the remaining hike was 1750 meters or a little over a mile.

The first portion of the trail was log steps braced with iron stakes. Towering narrow trees on either side formed a protective cover from the light rain.

Though the wildlife on the trail was limited at the time of day I traveled, I did see many unusual sights.

The range of mushrooms on the trail impressed me. I’d never seen nokki mushrooms in the wild or candy cap mushrooms that were as large as the specimens here. There was a ribbon like fungus that resembled green lasagna noodles, a matte black mushroom that resembled jet, and several wood-ear varieties.

The mosses were also notable. Wet or dry, they seemed to cover every tree. One frosty groundcover resembled tiny interlocking green coins.

Ants were surprisingly scarce, perhaps due to an overplus of tiny frogs. Several times, I was pursued by curious white mosquitos.

With about 750 meters to go, the difficulty of the hike changed significantly. Where sure footholds had been carved into rock there was now only wet soil. Pulling oneself up by tree roots was sometimes the only means available to advance along the trail. I had to pause and stategize periodically.

I did not carry water and was somewhat dehydrated. Several times between the 350 and 170 meters marks I sat down to clear my head.

I never doubted that I would complete the climb. I did wonder why I’d decided to pursue it. I wondered if the lagoon at the end would be worth the trouble. I was grateful that the trail was here, that the climb was possible, but questioned what humankind is doing at places like Cerro Chatto? Are we really more likely to protect nature if we come in contact with it in this way?

The last 170 meters was straight down the edge of the crater to the lagoon. There were fewer footholds and many dangerous loose branches. It is here that a knowledgable guide taking the path in advance of the hiker would be most rewarding.

The trail tailed out at the water’s edge, a seven foot square clearing with a bench. A large tree extended a branch over the water that would be excellent to climb on before swimming. I was disinclined to jump into the placid, slightly acid water. I did wash my hands and face with it refreshingly.

As I relaxed the dense mist hanging over the lagoon cleared. The thick vegetation around the water and the shape of the crater became evident. I could see all but the northwest corner of the lagoon.

I’ve been a hiker since I was a child growing up near the Colorado Rocky Mountains and I’ve done a lot of trail-based climbing. Chatto was one of the most challenging trails I’d climbed in my life.

On the way back it began to rain heavily, deepening the care I was obliged to take in my adventure.

I grew more optimistic in my thinking. I reflected on the way I used to engage hiking as a child, when nature was so obviously wonderful. The excitement of landscapes is in their ability to deliver this clarity, where archetypal surroundings feel unique and personal.

Abercam Pool Adventures

One of my favorite features of the Abercam resort over the past two months has been it’s delightful pool area and open air cantina.

Guests of the resort have 24 hour access to the well-maintained, delicately heated pool. Depending on their preference, co-owner Tim Abernathy will adjust the temperature up or down. Foreigners like the water warmer, Ticos prefer it tepid or even chilly.

In the afternoon and evening hours, all enjoy free drinks at the bar. Abercam’s rum punch is the most frequently requested drink followed closely by Imperial beer.

Most visitors are between the ages of thirty and fifty, with well-planned active vacations. They indulge themselves in moderation at the bar and engage the poolside daily.

Those who do not wish to stay overnight may enjoy a noon to dusk pool pass for about $10. This includes towel service and a single drink from the bar. Locals, including many expatriate Americans, take advantage of this option.

Costa Rican vlogger Michael Skofield and his partner D’Angelo frequently bring friends up for an evening. Every other week, a group of men from nearby San Ramon visit, numbering from three to seven depending on their availability.

The machismo of Costa Rican men is more subdued than in other Latin-Catholic countries. There is an easy-going appreciation for the mechanics of sex and the body and a feeling that these pleasures are universal regardless of their object.

As a result, many Ticos are hetero-flexible or bisexual. They are reluctant to identify themselves as openly gay. Many have children and all have varying degrees of accountability to their wives and families.

Venues like Abercam are more important in this cultural climate. Men from locations where gay communities are more public and ubiquitous tend to lead skinny dipping and casual consenting touch. In return, the Ticos provide dining and entertainment tips and conversation in Spanish.

My favorite days at the pool were those rare hot and dry afternoons when Arenal and it’s plumes of sulphurous smoke were visible in the distance.

My favorite nights were those between guests with hosts Abernathy and Wayne Campbell playing Carly Simon and the Rolling Stones on a boombox and sharing anecdotes about their experience of gay life in Florida during the late seventies and early eighties.

Caño Negro Adventure

(Caño Negro photos courtesy Steve Kettman.)

Near the northern border, Caño Negro Reserve consists of over 100 square kilometers.

Unlike a national park, locals and farmers are permitted to live and work within it’s limits provided they maintain a specific buffer around their property. The dynamic saves the govermnent in national park staffing, keeps the region wild, and keeps locals in the money.

While the waters of the Caño Negro Lake are at historic lows, rare and endangered wildlife continue to populate the area.

My Abercam pal Steve and I took a Caño Negro cruise with Canoa Aventura tour company and fellow travelers from Switzerland, England and British Colombia, Canada.

It was a day filled with satisfying sightings.

At the beginning our Rio Frio cruise, I spotted a reptile on my Costa Rica wish list, the basilisk lizard. Locally known by the nickname “Jesu Christi” for their ability to walk on water by quickly moving their hind legs, the basilisk’s English name also cites mythology. Medieval folklore held that the basilisk was a creature the body of a serpent and the head of a bird. It was believed to be so ugly it would turn it’s observers into stone.

Our entire group hoped to see all three kinds of Costa Rican monkey. Our guide, Pablo, careful not to dash our hopes, joked that he hoped to see a jaguar, a relative impossibility.

But shortly afterward, we spotted a group of howler monkeys, including an albino juvenile. Pablo noted that albino monkeys are more common as human encroachment on habitat forces many monkeys to mate within their own bloodlines.

Steve immediately spotted a group of white-faced capuchin feeding on palm fruits on the opposite shore. The capuchins made attack faces and noises at their neighbors to the south.

Just when we thought the excitement was over, an enormous crowd of spider monkeys burst through the folliage, following one another single file through the trees. We saw many mothers with babies on their backs. Within ten minutes all three species had presented themselves boldly.

Near the entrance to Caño Negro, a pile of brown rocks near the red clay shoreline turned out to be several dozen caiman, eyes above and noses below the water. We later saw one munch a large tilapia.

Iguana perched on feathery trees high above the water. When they are attacked they drop into the river to avoid becoming lunch. The Ticos refer to them as “Chicken of the Tree,” but have largely stopped consuming iguana in their diet.

Birdwatching was rich with variety. Three kinds of kingfisher, two kinds of egret, and several kinds of heron. We saw many northern jacana and hinga birds, an ibis, a wood stork, and a large bat falcon.

In another eagle eye moment, I spied a grey hooded kite, about twice the size of a parrot, but roughly the same shape. This carnivorous kite is actually a dark powder blue with alternating black and white feathers on it’s inner wings.

The last group we saw were a flock of rosette spoonbills. They resemble flamingos in their coloring but have unusual blue bills and a ordinary standing posture.

Afterward we ate a leisurely lunch at the Caiman Restaurant, a well balanced feast included with the tour.

In the weeks to come I hope to pass through Caño Negro again on my way to a day trip in Granada, Nicaragua.

Volcan Arenal Dessert

Even away from home it’s impossible to keep me from inventing in the kitchen! Two helpings of my Volcan Arenal dessert.

Volcan Arenal dessert: Vanilla ice cream atop a bed of limon cured apple slices, with apple puff pastry mountainsides, Melcochas de Natilla rocks, and guava jelly lava made to “glow” with a dusting of mandarin sour powder.

Thanks to fellow Abercam guest Steve Kettman for providing the salads that preceeded.

Adventure in the Old House and Old House Cooking

The house where I am staying is referrred to as The Old House as it was the first building on the Abercam property only ten years ago.

Tim Abernathy and Wayne Campbell, my hosts, stayed here for two years during the construction of their four villas and their own lodging, located in the heart of the resort above the open air bar.

The Old House is constucted of sturdy rainforest woods. Slats of a dry, heavily knotted cedar-like wood are layed front to back to create walls. The roof is made from black cane, covered on top by recycled polymer shingles, a federal requirement. The floors throughout are tiled with red Spanish clay.

On the walls, Tim and Wayne have hung a collection of yard long African masks, carved from ebony wood. Two are painted green, red and gold. Two are fringed with jute shag hair!

The house is a beautiful hideout when it rains. Dry and secluded and dimly lit.

Latice work and four hatch windows provide ventilation. There is no glass. Screens are layed over the openings.

A pentagonal porch stretches out for fifteen feet over the front of the house. It’s shadowed by orange halliconias, a yarrow-like flower that produced a poisonous blackberry, pineapple bushes, and orchidae. Ferns and moss and regional curiousities like wild cilantro over the ground

There are three hummingbird feeders which provide entertainment. The foremost of which is a small bird who jealously guards one feeder. He perches on a support the gardener built and swoops in to scare away those birds who dare to dip their beak in his artificial flowers.

I was very angry with the house cat last week when, while the bird was perched on something low laying, she pounced and caught him in her mouth. She strolled with him between her teeth for a dozen paces before the bird fought back and finally escaped.

I was sure the bird was mortally wounded.

He was back at his post today. He lost a few feathers and looks battered but is just as feisty and still getting his way.

My “feeder” is the tiny, blue tiled kitchen. I have a pie safe, a refrigerator, a hot plate, two stock pots, a large frying pan, a rice cooker, and a blender.

I have one menacing looking all purpose knife. The Ticos use the word “cuchillio” for everything from a butter knife to a machete. Groceries typically have a spare cuchillio for cutting plantains and other fruits from hanging stalks.

There are several cooking spoons, kitchen sheers and a spatula. Plenty of plates and tableware

Because of the potential for ants and flies, anything that is open must be wrapped in a sealed plastic tub or wrapped the refrigerator. You can not leave food out and you must clean up immediately after every meal. Tico kitchens are clean!

The freezer is mostly filled with ice. The only frozen food universally available here is ice cream. This is prohibitively expensive (about ten dollars for two pints), of modest variety (there are several different takes on vanilla), and of marginal quality.

It is also tough to find 100 percent butter here. Brown eggs are cheap and plentiful but rarely refrigerated. There are very few kinds of cheese and they all taste a bit gluey.

I’ve been making black beans and rice (the national dish), instant potatoes, lentil stew, and bread slice pizzas. In the mornings, I sometimes eat oatmeal. More often than now, I eat fresh fruit cured with limon juice. It’s hard to find proper lemons or limes, but the sour green limon is a worthy substitute.

There some unusual common fruit juices. Orange-carrot is very common. So is pineapple-guava. Fruit punch is typically orange-pineapple-guava-papaya.

For a refresher, I’m enjoying pre-sweetened agua frescas that you mix from a powder in envelopes. Today I’m drinking passionfruit, but I’ve also had hibiscus and soursop flavors. I find I need to drink about 1 liter a day on hot days just to keep hydrated.

The Circa de Cataratas Adventure

(photo courtesy Scott Robinson, wiki commons)

The Abercam resort is located at 1800 feet above sea level. Downtown La Fortuna, by contrast, is slightly below sea level. The two are 4 kilometers apart.

Twice a week, typically Tuesday and Friday, I have been traveling the steep down the Circa de Cataracas to run errands. The hike takes about 40 minutes to an hour each way depending on your pack and the weather.

I slide the huge wooden door that connects the Grande Tapia Blanca just far apart enough to edge through and close it behind me.

On a clear day, you can see Nicaragua to the North - a pile of distant green mountains.

The Circa is not yet fully paved. It alternates gravel and tarmac, gravel and cement, gravel and grey brick as though the public works department could not decide how to approach it.

In truth, the project is so large for La Fortuna the city must do it in stages. These bits of paved road represent the curves and grades that must be reinforced when the road is entirely paved next year.

About half of the homes along the road are private residences. Squat, single story, no basement. These homes typically have a garage and a small acerage. Since would be difficult to farm on this terrain, most keep horses or cows or both.

The cattle hang out in enormous pastures all day, bobbing their heads and chewing. They are often not of a single variety, but a mix of different breeds of dairy cattle and cattle for slaughter. Sometimes property owners hire their neighbors cattle to chew down the overgrowth in a vacant lot.

Horses generally have to work a bit harder. Most are called upon for a strenuous horseback ride through Monteverde, a protected zone at the top of the mountain. Horse poop is an obstacle for drivers and hikers all along the road.

More desirably, lucky horseshoes fall on the path as well. After stumbling on a few rusty half-shoes, I found a whole one in perfect shape the other day. It belonged to a ranch whose brand is Delta, which I considered a good omen (I write Delta Magnet Blog.)

The other homes along the Circa are live/work style cottage businesses. The nearest on to Abercam is a hammock shop where hundreds of brightly colored, hand woven hammocks cover every square inch of a porch and a modest showroom.

A wood carver, immigrated to Costa Rica from the US, has a small studio on the switchback beneath. He’s carved two male torsos out of rosewood for the Abercam bar.

The advertisement seems to be working. One of the last guests at the resort trekked down the road to commission a lean, muscular 24” torso for his coffee table at home. The price? A super cheap $152!

Another curiousity, a palm wood shack selling coconut water almost never has customers. According to Geraldo, who is pals with the owner, they used to have a brisk business selling beer, but then his freind “changed his mind” about selling alcohol.

There are plenty of campgrounds and “cabinas” for about $30 a night. There is also a few lovely sprawling lodges which are favored by European visitors. At least one has an open air restaurant that serves Typicos, “typical food,” which generally means Empenadas, fried plantains, and Casado or “married” lunch where rice and beans are combined with meat and a salad.

The Ticos are generally a friendly bunch and will exchange “Hola” or “Buenas,” with you. “Buenas” covers all times of day (“dias,” “tardes,” and “noches”) to a stranger. One response to “Buenas” is “Hoy!” or “today,” which men on horseback often give me.

Almost to a one, the Ticos own dogs. While I’ve seen at least one hound, though most of the dogs are lap sized mutts, variations on beagles, chihuahuas, and Australian shepards.

Though I introduce myself to dogs that follow me walking, I don’t typically pet them or feed them, and most wag their tails enthusiastically to “bueno perro” and a little running around.

Another curiousity, most locals who walk here are women and they travel in pairs.

The Circa ends at the bottom of the hill at a north/south road stretching between San Ramon and La Fortuna.