So my front door opens to the beach, and out my backdoor is the rainforest…

The story continues…

On August 26^th our mangrove drivers took us on the wildest boat ride I’ve ever been on (yes Rausch, even wilder than the one where I bit a hole in my lip) across the Pacific Ocean to Corcovado. We had to take boats because the park is so protected that roads cannot be built through it to the ranger station on the beach. After roller-coastering us across the Pacific, the drivers landed us safely on the beach and we spent the next 20 minutes scrambling to unload all of our

new friends just hanging out in our
front yard--aka the beach

supplies before the tide left. I’ve always respected the olympic beach volleyball players, but unpacking those boats took that to a whole new level—running on sand is hard! Once the boats were safely out to sea, we set up our tents and I was really able to absorb the status of my life. I would be spending the next 6 days living and learning in one of the most beautiful national parks in the world.  I was surrounded on one side by the most beautiful beach I had ever seen, and on the other by vivid green rainforest. At that moment, I was convinced that life couldn’t get any better (not surprisingly, I have several of these moments daily).

We spent our first morning hiking in the rainforest with our professors, and decided to venture out on our own in the afternoon. With the TAs’ careful directions, all 22 of us headed up river (oh, did I mention that our campsite also had a freshwater river next to it that emptied into the ocean just outside my tent window?) towards a waterfall.  We were clipping right along, chatting and having a great time, when all of a sudden it started to pour. Nobody in the group wanted to turn around, so we pressed on, crossing the river, tumbling over rocks, laughing the whole way. The further and more damp (damper?) that we got, the more appetizing the river/mini waterfalls looked, so that day we never made it to the big waterfall. 

I jumped down that waterfall in the back and landed
right here

We swam and slid down the river, jumping down the mini waterfalls until we got to a large, slower moving stretch of river.  Everyone was content to keep on floating, however my internal alarms started going off (thanks for instilling very LOUD ones in me, Mom) and I made everyone get out and hike back to camp.  Turns out that my internal alarms are in excellent working order (kudos to you, Mom) as the TA’s informed us that the area where I hauled everyone out of the water was the beginning of crocodile territory!

We spent the next day hiking in smaller groups collecting data for professor-directed experiments and my group made it to the big waterfall! The afternoon was spent analyzing the data, playing in the ocean, and I took my first outdoor shower right on the beach! I’m convinced this is the best way to get clean.

On the 29^th we embarked on our first big hike to Playa Llorona. We had a great time on the trail, keeping each other hydrated, trying to catch anoles, crossing little rivers, getting way too close to spider monkey territory (they threw poo at us to let us know this) and sinking knee deep in mud. After what seemed like an eternity (4 hours) we arrived at the most beautiful beach I had ever been to (for the record, every beach I’ve been to on this trip has been prettier than the one before it) and played all afternoon. 

Literally this place looked like one of those “beach theme” screen savers, I could not even believe it was real. A little ways down the beach there was a light waterfall where we showered and filled up our water bottles before hiking back to camp. 

Because the tide had come in, some swimming pools had formed upstream in one of the rivers we had to cross. Naturally I got my river otter on and spent a couple hours with a few of my friends cannon-balling off some nearby rocks, floating, and playing in the freshwater pools. As the sun was setting we started hiking back to camp, however while we had been playing the tide had still been coming in and when we reached the river that separated our camp from the trailhead we were faced with quite a conundrum; the students that had kept hiking had only had to tread through waist-deep water, but now the little estuary had become a running river way over my head. It soon became apparent that the only way we were going to get across this river was by swimming—backpacks, boots, and all. We hung all our equipment where the ocean breeze could dry it overnight, and spent the night stargazing.