We got in the extra-cab pickup, passed through Puerto López breaking for every speed bump (some of which are giant nautical ropes), and hung a left into the dry hills. The farther away from the coast we drove -- and the more we gained elevation -- the greener the landscape became. Our guy took it easy on his truck for the 25 minute ride to Guayacan de los Monos, the station from where we'd head up into the bosque húmedo on horseback.
At the station we met our guides: Rosendo and his adult kids, Doris and Juan. We were given rubber boots, and I told my mom that they were good because snake fangs fangs can't penetrate rubber.
"Noy hay serpientes aqui," Rosendo said seriously -- there aren't any snakes here. Though later on our trek he would show us a wild relative of the pineapple, the tops of which had these huge bromeliad heads where -- Rosendo told us -- you should never reach your hand in without looking because snakes hide in there. Afterward, we reasoned that he meant there were no snakes down by the station. Anywho, the tiny pineapple fruit tasted just like, you guessed it: pineapple.
Before we got going though, we had to have some horses, each matched perfectly to our riding styles and personalities. The kids got very mellow brother and sister ponies, Kerry got a raging stallion (complete with testicles) who just wanted to bolt, Carmen got the guide's horse, Cassie got a mule ("He's a 4 x 4" said Rosendo), and I got a poor steed named Pepe who only wanted to stop and eat. He even fell asleep when we dismounted for lunch. My tostones were quite happy not to be on Kerry's horse, thank you very much. The guides even provided "seat-belts" for the kids.
Sylvia was quite nervous to start, but by the end of the 4 or 5 hour trek, she was slapping it on the rear to get it going faster. Oakes was thrilled from the start, and both kids did a fantastic job. We did have to proceed in a particular order, both so that Kerry's horse did not run off, and so that my horse did not fall asleep or drop off the back of the procession. The guides walked, which made me feel particularly lazy.
I am not sure what the elevation gain was, but it was significant, several hundred feet at least. The forest we left was exceptionally dry, and by the time we reached our highest point, we were engulfed in real tropical humid forest. It was beautiful, and Rosendo stopped every once in a while to show us something cool. As far as birds go, we saw a cool blue parrot and two kinds of trogons -- awesome!
The highlight of the trek was seeing black-faced howler monkeys. Just as we were finishing lunch, Rosendo came galloping back on Kerry's horse, which he'd taken for a "brisk" ride to take a little of the fire out of him.
"Come with us, quickly!" Doris and Juan grabbed the kids, and got them onto their horses. We all headed down the steep trail, eventually dismounting. It was funny to watch Rosendo grab Carmen's hand and hustle her down the trail. They were quite intent on getting us to see those monkeys.
And seeing them was indeed special: a whole family of howlers. One baby, a couple of juveniles, and a few adults lounged in the open branches allowing us great views. We soaked in the monkeys until we were overcome by mosquitos, and it was time to make our way back down the mountain into the drier, scrubbier forest.
Turns out that Kerry's horse didn't have a name, as it was his first ride out with tourists. Good to know! Fortunately, Kerry is a cowgirl ("that horse was totally in control"). For being brave enough to ride him (no one else volunteered), Rosendo gave her the honor of naming him.
"I don't know, what do you think?" she asked me.
"Chispa!" I said remembering the horse in Costa Rica who had frequently tried to run under low branches so as to scrape me off his back. (Chispa means spark.)
"OK, Chispa it is," said Rosendo. And we headed back to the beach.
saddle belt :)
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