Monteverde, Entrance into the Mist.

January 19^th,

People shivering in the morning, reminiscent of a Minnesota fall day. No one was prepared for the cold brisk winds whipping across the sky. Looking up, seeing clouds moving unrealistically fast, like flipping through an album of time lapsed photos.

The morning consisted of an orientation walk throughout the Monteverde Cloud Reserve, after a brief presentation concerning how the Reserve is managed and sustained. Our group was broken into two. I myself was in the group guided by Giovanni, a character to say the least, full of phrases that didn’t quite seem to make sense, like his insistence that we use our “four wheeled vision” along the walk. Giovanni as well gave all the girls new names. Hannah turned into strangler tree, Stephanie transformed hemiepiphyte, Susan morphed into climbing vine, Rae converted into epiphyte, and Rachel who became parasite. All of the boys were left out: no nicknames for us.

On the walk, we winded throughout the Cloud Forest, climbing to higher altitudes with each subsequent step, going towards a common goal: the Continental Divide. The climb to 1550 meters brought an intense burst of sunlight, and a shedding of numerous layers from the warmth. The view was amazing, as we straddled the Divide, separating the watersheds of the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. The wind even more amazing, reaching 100 mph, facing the Caribbean was like going into a boxing rink and taking punches from a heavy weight champion. Turning to the west, the Pacific and its majestic beauty could be seen over the clouds and through the pristine air.

The walk back from the high peak brought back the colder weather, but was well received in our state of exhaustion and hunger. Giovanni would periodically stop us on the way to point out Hummingbird nests, with the females inside. The hummingbirds, so small, were amazing to see through Giovanni’s scope with their intricate plumage and sloped beaks. How he ever would have spotted those is beyond me, as they were at times 20-30 meters away and the size of a baseball hidden in the dense foliage of the forest. Needless to say, no Quetzal spotting’s, maybe tomorrow.Giovanni would periodically stop us on the way to point out Hummingbird nests, with the females inside. The hummingbirds, so small, were amazing to see through Giovanni’s scope with their intricate plumage and sloped beaks. How he ever would have spotted those is beyond me, as they were at times 20-30 meters away and the size of a baseball hidden in the dense foliage of the forest. Needless to say, no Quetzal spotting’s, maybe tomorrow.

Following lunch, we met with Dr. Alan Pounds a biologist from the United States with two dogs, Sugarbear and Shaman, who is frequently seen walking around and whose dogs love any and all attention. I think some on the trip might make some attempts to bring Sugarbear home with us. The talk focused on climate change and the case of the Golden Toad an endemic species that was last seen at Monteverde in 1989. The talk was extremely interesting, and was by far my favorite thus far based on his persona and the material that he talked about. He spends his days recording climatic conditions at Monteverde, and has come up with some trends: Monteverde is getting hotter and colder and wetter and dry, completely logical I know. But it’s getting hotter at night, colder during the day, wetter during the wet season, and drier during the dry season, and yet some say climate change isn’t occurring at all. At Monteverde the change is happening in every possible facet.

Today wraps up another day, our first at Monteverde, but thankfully not our last. Monteverde is by far my most favorite destination thus far, from its history of Quaker settlers (I went to a Quaker school my whole life), to the refreshing temperature and air. So much is still to be discovered and enjoyed, and I think I can say for us all, that we all await the experiences.

-Stephen