Adventures with vines and trees

[Alaska]

The result of too many movies, or genetic memory—who can say? But the first chance I got to swing on a vine, I took it.

It wasn’t much of a swing, per se. No death-defying Tarzan leap with outstretched hands or anything like that. I was in a little campground area on the Pacific Coast, off the beaten path. There was no one else there. The site was a big grass sward just inland from the beach, and screened from the beach by a thin rank of trees. You just pitched your tent anywhere. There were rudimentary outhouse facilities and some kind of vertical sprinkler line that served as a cold shower. Down the road a ways was a small café type affair with an open air kitchen and rough picnic tables scattered among the trees. A great place. Good rice and beans and tamarindo juice.

But I digress. There were these trees with weird root-like extensions curling down from the big branches in the upper canopy. I call them vines for lack of a better term but when you grabbed them they felt like a strong flexible root. (I don’t know anymore now than I did then about the region’s botany—sorry. Next time I travel SOTB I’m going to do my homework beforehand.)

They hung down at varying distances from the ground, sometimes singly and sometimes in clusters. But the ones near to the ground were great for grabbing and running as hard as you could until you leapt into the air at the furthest arc point allowed by the vine’s length. Then you just hung on with your legs jacked up. It was like a rope swing over a lake except you had no where to fall but grassy field. You could run all sorts of patterns and make yourself twist in the air or swing in big sweeping circles. It was great. Just like being a human tetherball, but with a reeling view of lincoln green forest, vermillion grass, and the ultra blue of the near-equatorial Pacific.

Climbing trees, on the other hand, was also fun, but actually rather stupid, at least without local woodcraft.

One time when I was hiking in a park on the southern tip of the Nicoya Peninsula I took it upon myself to scamper up a massive tree that looked to be made of hundreds of little trees intertwined. Kind of like the Banyon trees you see in Hawaii, if I am remembering correctly. It was easy to climb, lots of handholds and toeholds and plenty of slim extensions for shimmying.

It didn’t take long to scramble 70 feet up or so, which is about the point that I saw the snake. It was a little guy, and he was a good 5 feet away from me on one of the limbs. But that was enough to bring lines in my guidebook floating back before my frozen eyes—you know, the lines about the fer-de-lance and the stories about how its victims get 2 or 3 steps before the venom takes them down.

I wouldn’t even get that. I’d just drop from the tree like a pale-skinned fruit.

Hmm.

Its amazing how time dilates when you catch yourself in situations you don’t want to be. The snake wasn’t being hostile, and I’ve no idea if it was venomous or not. It could have been some kind of tree-loving grass snake, for all I knew. But as I hung there, I thought about all the handholds and footholds I’d just used with no clue as to whether or no they were occupied. Not good. I started looking around and sure enough all around me were shadowed nooks and crannies wherein I *thought* I could see beady little bat-like eyes watching the stupid gringo.

Maybe that was for real or maybe I was faking myself out—but it was time to get out of there. I basically peeled off onto a slim offshoot of the main trunk and slid down as quick as I could, trusting it would support my weight. In that, as in everything else in this little misadventure, I was lucky. I retrieved my daypack from where I’d stashed it and moved on down the trail.

I didn’t climb any more trees that day.

Moral of the story—do your homework, no matter where you’re going. That extends to the natural jungle and not just the urban jungle. Bottom line, you’ll save yourself a lot of adrenalin—if not more.

[Cap'n Jib]

You have a gift of storytelling my good man!

In another post you thought that these experiences were better over a couple of beers, if I remember correctly. I am doing my part…enjoying the beer and the story.

I have 11 cases of beer in the storage room. So by my way of thinking, you can keep those stories coming. I will keep drinking. OR you can come down here and drink with me.

[Alaska]

Thanks, Cap'n; are you really in Panama right now? I never made it down there...closest I came was the Osa Peninusla in southern CR (Pacific Side.)

Sure would like to visit some time...

[LastLion]

Alaska, the OSA Peninsula. Is that where your last stroy took place. I went to dinner with a surf buddy the other night, he just but an acre less than a 100yard from the beach for a 100k. Yaa that seams like a lot for LAM but it is not for Costa rica.

Tell us about the OSA Penninsula. That is my next costa rican venture! Hopefully on a motorbike. Are you hearing me TONK !!!!

[HonkyTonk]

www.costaricamotorcycles.com/

LL, that's the place I told you about that rents Harleys in CR. Doesn't seem they rent baggers are are more geared to day trips as opposed to week long trips. You can't take their bikes out of the country (I asked) and she'll take forever getting back to you by email. What's new?

I can travel 5 days out of a small strap on bag. Hmmm...

AK, keep 'em coming!