It looked like this black-faced sheep in the Scottish Highlands had learned how to fly when escaping from a border collie. Maybe not, but it was a one heck of a leap!
Peggy and I have now returned from our two month exploration of Greece, the Scottish Highlands and Ireland. I’ll be blogging about the experience over the next couple of months, focusing on highlights.
One of the highlights of our CIE Travel Company bus tour of the Scottish Highlands with our grandson Cody was stopping at Neil Ross’s 11,000 acre Leault sheep farm in Kincraig, Scotland. (It’s not far from Loch Ness where we went in search of the legendary Nessie.) Neal and his border collies put on a sheep dog demonstration for us that was incredible.
The first border collies were bred on the border between Scotland and England, thus the name. Their ancient ancestors were Viking and Roman herding dogs. Their specific ancestor traces back to a dog know as Old Hemp born in 1893. His herding instincts were so highly developed that sheep herders the world over wanted pups from him. It’s said that he produced over 200— and I assume that he was quite happy to do so. Among the qualities that Old Hemp showed were high intelligence and the ability to manage large flocks over long distances using independent judgement. Plus a real love for his master and a strong desire to please. The latter made him easy to train and eager to carry out his responsibilities.
Sheep herders were also impressed with the fact that Old Hemp was less physical and more mental in his herding technique: Instead of biting the sheep, he gave them ‘the look,’ translated ‘do it or else.’ The bite was implied. I understand the look. Peggy was the principal of an elementary school with over 1000 students from 18 different countries and was a master of the look. She didn’t have to use it often, but when she did, the kids were instantly on their best behavior. So am I.
Possibly the most important factor is the herding instinct, which is the result of hundreds, if not thousands, of years of herding. Sheep and cattle dogs love to herd. It is not a chore; it’s a way of life. When Ross brought his dogs out for the demonstration, they were almost shaking in their eagerness to be turned loose. When Cody was young, his dad had bought a pair of Austrailian cattle dogs. They were constantly trying to herd him and his brother Ethan. They even tried to herd me, but we had a discussion about it. In addition to sheep and cattle, border collies have also been used in herding poultry, pigs and even ostriches!
Neil uses both voice commands and whistles to let his dogs know what he wants them to do. If you ever watched the movie Babe where the pig ends up herding the sheep, Neil provided the whistle commands used with the sheep dogs in the movie. It’s fascinating to watch how Neil and the sheep dogs work together. His first command was to go out into the woods and bring the sheep into the field where the demonstration was to take place. At one point he directed his sheep dogs to separate out some sheep that belonged to a neighbor from his herd, and they did it.
Following are photos that Peggy and I took to give you something of a feel for the sheepdog demonstration. We will apply our own interpretation as to what the border collies were up to…
The collies began their work by gathering the sheep together out in the woods on Neil’s ranch. The video at the end shows the effort. The dogs then brought the sheep into the open area in front of Neil’s house where they demonstrated their ability to control them. Our interpretation here was that the collie that you see in the foreground was staring at the sheep and informing them, ‘You are going in the wrong direction.”“That’s better.” “Now run. It is okay to wag your tails.” We watched as the border collies worked the sheep back and forth across the field at Neil’s commands.“Now, line up in groups of 2-4 and trot across the yard for a group photo.” One dog, seen next to the sheep here, is herding. Another dog stands off in the distance, ready to run in and help if needed. The dogs worked in tandem with two other collies on the field. “Good sheep.” We dutifully took photos. (All of the wool on the ground suggested to Peggy and me that the sheep were shedding. Either that or it was left over from sheep shearing and had been blown across the field.)This photo provides an idea of the number of sheep the dogs were working at the time. It’s just a small portion of the 2500 sheep on the farm.The whole time the dogs worked, Neil was giving them voice and whistle instructions.He also demonstrated the fine art of sheep shearing while three of his dogs looked on. Maybe they were there to assure the sheep’s good behavior.Neil also introduced us to a pair of lambs.And a calf. One of the lambs stuck its nose out through the fence, asking to be let out. Neil let all three out where members of our tour group fed them milk with baby bottles.The absolute stars of the show were the three border collie puppies that were brought over to meet the tour group.Cody fell in love— and was threatening to steal one.I could hardly blame him.Peggy joined Cody for a photo op.A large yawn announced that the puppy had decided that taking a nap in Cody’s arms seemed like a nice thing to do. Or was it saying, “Ah want tae learn hoo tae mak sheep flee, jist like mammy and daddy.” With a proper Scottish accent, of course.Nope, it was sleep.
This video below shows the dogs bringing in the sheep from the forest to the open field under Neil’s directions. One of other dogs wants to join the fun but is limping. Neil directs it down to the open field to hold the sheep when they arrive. You can see the dogs working in the background. Note how fast they run. A few of the sheep slide off to the side. You can hear Neil telling the dogs “Say goodby, say goodby. Clicking on the photo will start it running.
My next post on Tuesday will take you back to the book I am blogging, UT-OH, and the beginning of my time at UC Berkeley where I was a student when a nation-wide effort was underway to involve students in the civil-rights movement. I ended up giving speeches from the Dean’s desk and sitting on the floor of the Administration building singing We Shall Overcome with Joan Baez.
Every couple of years I update Bone’s travel history because he continues to wander the world.
Bone has travelled to the base of Mt. Everest. Twice.
Sometime in the 1900s Bone started his life as part of a horse wandering through the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The horse was allegedly eaten by a bear. Bone ended up in a high mountain meadow practicing Zen and being nibbled on by a miscreant rodent.
1977: He was ‘discovered’ by two lost backpackers (Curt Mekemson and Tom Lovering) on the Tahoe Yosemite Trail south of Lake Tahoe and launched his career of wandering the world.
Normally, Bone likes to hang out in Curt and Peggy’ library in Virginia. His favorite section is travel.
He also has a fondness for George, the Bush Devil, who is on the cover of Curt’s book, “The Bush Devil Ate Sam.” Here, the two of them share a laugh.
1980-81: Bone commenced his first World Tour with Tom. He visited Asia including Japan, Hong Kong, Bombay, Delhi and Katmandu where he trekked to the base of Mt. Everest. He then wandered on to spend spring and summer in Europe stopping off in Greece, Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, Austria, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Germany, Belgium, England and Ireland. Getting cold, Bone headed south and hitched a ride in the back of a truck through Algeria, Niger, Chad, Nigeria, Cameroon, Central African Republic, Zaire, Sudan, Kenya (where he crossed the Equator), Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa. He signed on with Tom as crew of a sailboat in Cape Town and headed north to Mallorca, stopping off on the islands of St. Helena, Ascension, Cape Verde and Madeira. Back in Europe he explored his possible Viking roots in Sweden, Norway and Finland.
1983-86: Bone assumed Cheechako status and moved to Alaska with Curt where he was stalked by a grizzly bear on the Kenai Peninsula, explored Prince William Sound by kayak, learned to winter camp in 30 degree below zero weather while listening to wolves howl, backpacked in the Brooks Range north of the Arctic Circle, and discussed the finer points of eating salmon with Great Brown Bears in Katmai National Park. He escaped briefly to the warmer climate of Hawaii and participated in the New Orleans Mardi Gras.
One look at this fellow and Bone decided that he wanted to be elsewhere.
The big guy was playing with a distant cousin of his.
1986: He backpacked the Western US for five months with Curt exploring the Grand Canyon, the Gila Wilderness of New Mexico, the Rockies, and the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming before returning to his beloved Sierras.
1989: Bone joined Curt on a six month 10,000-mile solo bike tour around North America visiting 18 states and 4 Canadian provinces. He ended his journey by meeting Peggy in Sacramento.
1990: The International Society of the BONE was formed at Senior Frogs in Mazatlan, Mexico, where Bone spent the afternoon being pickled in a pitcher of margaritas and being kissed by lovely senoritas.
1991-97: Various members of International Society accompanied Bone on numerous adventures. Highlights included a White House Press Conference with Bill Clinton, being blessed by the Pope in St. Peter’s Square, visiting with Michelangelo’s David, going deep-sea diving in the South Pacific and Caribbean, doing a Jane Austin tour of England, and exploring the Yucatan Peninsula. A group adopted him as a good luck charm and took him back to visit the base of Mt. Everest one year and to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro another.
Bone loves high places. Here he is on top of Mt. Kilimanjaro in East Africa. (He’s with MJ, fourth from right, standing.)
Bone went diving in the Pacific in 1997 with Jose and Barbara Kirchner, visiting a Japanese ship sunk during World War II and receiving his diving certificate.
1998-99: Bone embarked on 40,000-mile journey in the van, Xanadu, through the US, Canada and Mexico with Peggy and Curt, visiting over 30 National Parks, driving the Alaska and Baja Highways, checking out Smokey the Bear’s and Calamity Jane’s graves, kayaking in the Sea of Cortez, leaf peeping in Vermont, jetting to the Bahamas, pursuing flying saucers in Roswell, New Mexico, and completing his visits to all 50 states.
Bone was quite impressed with the size of his ancient relatives. Here he rests on dinosaur toes at the Dinosaur National Monument Visitor Center.
2000-02: Bone journeys up the Amazon, returns to Europe, cruises to Belize, Cancun and the Cayman’s, and goes to New Zealand where a misguided customs agent tries to arrest and jail him as animal matter.
Bone, who likes strange things, insisted on having his photo taken with a mudstone concretion in New Zealand.
2003: Bone undertakes a 360-mile backpack trip in celebration of his discovery and Curt’s 60th birthday. They begin at Squaw Valley near Lake Tahoe and end by climbing Mt. Whitney. Various friends join them along the way.
Bone got a little high when he helped Curt celebrate his 60th birthday, which isn’t surprising considering he is a California bone.
2004: Bone visits Hemingway’s grave in Idaho, goes horseback riding with Australians and Bahamians in Montana, and makes his first pilgrimage to Burning Man in Nevada, a very Bone like type of place. He also jets off to Costa Rica.
Bone has a love for anything ancient. Here, he perches on a Mayan sculpture in Costa Rica.
2005-2007: Bone returns to Burning Man twice and revisits Europe twice including special stopovers in Portugal, France, Holland, Germany, and Belgium. He also revisits Mexico.
2008 – 2011: Bone commences another exploration of North America. This time he travels in the van, Quivera, along with Curt, Peggy, and Eeyore the Jackass. His journey takes him over 75,000 miles of American Roads. Along the way, he barely escapes the hangman’s noose in Tombstone, Arizona. In May of 2010 he helps Curt initiate his blog, and rafts 220 miles down the Colorado River with Tom, Curt and friends through the Grand Canyon.
Bone barely escaped the hangman’s noose after being a Bad Bone in Tombstone, Arizona.Bone, wearing his PFD, scouts a major rapid on the Colorado River before rafting though it.
2012-2017: Bone goes into semi-retirement in Southern Oregon. Please note the semi, however. He continues the exploration of the West Coast ranging from Big Sur to Vancouver Island, where he kayaks for a week in search of Killer Whales. He wanders through England and Scotland helping Curt find his roots and spends a week traveling by Canal Boat. Later, he returns to Europe again, traveling through the Mediterranean visiting Turkey, Santorini and other Greek Islands, Dubrovnik, Venice, Rome, Pompeii, Florence, and Barcelona. He returns to Burning Man several times. On one trip, he is married to the lovely Bonetta, who he met while exploring a swamp in Florida. Rumor has it that it was a shotgun wedding. This past year he traveled with Peggy and me on our 10,000 mile trip around North America retracing Curt’s bike route. He made a very special trip with fellow blogger Crystal Truelove to visit with Native Americans of the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma.
Burning Man is one of Bone’s all-time favorite activities.
Bone and Big Nose Bonetta are married in a temple at Burning Man in 2013. Bone’s kilt was made for him by an 80-plus year old woman from Kansas. Bonetta is wearing a designer wedding dress with very expensive plastic jewelry to match.
Bone got a wee bit jealous when I snuggled up to this mammoth of a bone when Peggy and I were re-visiting by van my 1999 10,000-mile bike trip.
2018: Bone joins Curtis in celebrating Curt’s 75th Birthday by backpacking 750 miles in Oregon and California. Highlights include the Rogue River Trail, Three Sisters Wilderness and the Siskiyou Mountains in Oregon. In California, Curt and Bone more or less follow the Pacific Crest Trail through the Klamath Mountains, Marble Mountains, Trinity Alps, Cascade Mountains and Sierra Nevada Mountains— taking detours whenever the mood strikes, including revisiting where Tom and Curt found him in 1977! Along the way, Bone meets and chats with numerous through-hikers on the Pacific Crest Trail who are hiking from Mexico to Canada. He also spends a lot of time dodging horrendous forest fires. Peggy joins Curt and Bone for three sections of the journey and provides welcome backup for the rest of the journey.
Bone had a privileged position on the front of Curt’s Backpack during the 750 mile journey down the Pacific Crest Trail.Bone met many through-hikers making their way from Mexico to Canada including a hiker whose trail name was Bone! Here we have Bone and Bone.As we arrived at Bone’s home south of Lake Tahoe, he entertained Peggy with tales from his childhood.
2019-2020: He joins Curt for a trip down California’s beautiful Highway 395 among the Eastern Sierras and visits the Alabama Hills where cowboy movies of yore were made with the likes of John Wayne, Hopalong Cassidy, the Lone Ranger and a host of others— voices from the past that have echoed down through time. “Hi-yo Silver away.”
Bone and his traveling companion Eeyore donned covid masks for 2020 RV trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to celebrate Peggy’s 70th Birthday.
2022-2026 “Is that a bone in your suitcase? Hand it over.” Worried about being confiscated by the TSA or some similar organization overseas, Bone decides to limit his travel to the US with a 10,000 mile road trip each year. Highlights include 3-month trips where he explores the Pacific Coast, the Southwest, the Northwest, and New England. Taking different routes to get to these locations, he also spends time in the South, Midwest, East and West in general. Along the way, he manages to visit most of the National Parks, travels Route 66, and goes to Burning Man again. He also goes backpacking and kayaking. He now lives in Virginia with Curt and Peggy, who have moved there from Oregon to be closer to family.
Monday’s Post: The Beaver’s Revenge. Having left Alaska in 1986, I returned to the lower 48 states. To help with the transition I took my first six month off backpacking in the West. This week I will feature three tales from the time: 1) A trip into the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming where I encounter the beaver, 2) An exploration of the Gila Wilderness of New Mexico where a herd of elk charges me, and 3) A backpacking trip into the Grand Canyon.
Bone has been in many tough situations in his life; he can handle tough questions. Here he rests on top of a saguaro cactus in Arizona looking for ICE agents. His lack of official papers, or even a birth certificate, can cause problems at times. –Curt
Q:Do you really talk? We’re speaking ethics here, Bone. Blogging is about transparency. That means honesty.
A. Are you crazy? Have you ever heard a bone talk? Of course I don’t talk. I just think out loud.
Q:Curt sometimes refers to you as he. Does this mean you are a male bone?
A. No. He makes assumptions, lots of them. He was showing me to a biologist at a writers’ conference in San Francisco and she suggested I have my DNA tested. “Just cut a small chip off of it,” she said nonchalantly. “You can determine its sex and breed.”
“Just cut a small chip off of it!” Outrageous! I am not some it to have chips cut out of. Besides, I lead a rich fantasy life and have no desire to know whether I am male or female. Call me she, he, or Bone, but never it.
Um, I think Bone is definitely a male. –Curt
Q: You have traveled all over the world and met thousands of people. How do they usually react to you?
A. With befuddlement. You should have seen the look on the face of the customs agent in New Zealand who tried to seize me as ‘animal matter.’ But emotions run the gamut. There was a Japanese man who got off a tour bus at Yellowstone National Park and wanted to hold me for good luck. Soon there were 40 other Japanese handing me around, oohing, and taking photos. I was thrilled. On the opposite side, I know a woman who refuses to touch me, like I have cooties. “I don’t know where Bone has been,” she states primly. Not surprisingly, there is also jealousy. “I want to be you and travel the world,” a good friend in Sacramento told me.
Some people act like I have cooties. This woman almost dropped me and then washed her hands! –Bone
Peggy and Curt’s niece, Christina, on the other hand, show the proper way to treat me. —Bone
Q: What is your favorite thing to do?
A. Visit graveyards; there are lots of old bones there. My favorite grave is Smokey Bear’s in Capitan, New Mexico. I once stood on his tombstone for ten minutes trying to communicate but all I could get was something about ‘growling and a prowling and a sniffing the air.’ A close second is the grave of Calamity Jane in Deadwood, South Dakota. What a woman! These are difficult choices, though, when you toss in the likes of Hemingway, Daniel Boone and Billy the Kid. On the light side I once visited Ben and Jerry’s graveyard of discarded ice cream flavors in Vermont. My spookiest experience was a visit to the Capela dos Ossos, the Chapel of Bones, in Evora, Portugal, where an estimated 5,000 corpses were dug up to decorate the walls of the chapel. Those folks definitely have a skeleton in their closet, lots of them. The skulls kept whispering, “Join us, Bone.”I ran.
Bone has a special fondness for unusual graves. Here he hangs out with Billy the Kid in New Mexico. Has he been in a gunfight? Are those bloodstains on his vest? -CurtThe camera broke when Curt tried to take a photo in the Chapel of Bones but here is my all time favorite sculpture at Burning Man, the Bone Tree. -BoneBTW, I married the lovely Bonetta at Burning Man in 2013. -Bone
Q: So, what’s your second most favorite?
A. Too hard; I am a dilettante dabbler, but here are a few.
Wandering, of course, anywhere and everywhere and by all modes: bikes, kayaks, rafts, skis, backpacks, sailboats, planes, helicopters, trains, cars, RVs, etc. I’ve been to all 50 states in the US and to over 50 countries worldwide.
Visiting wild, remote and beautiful natural areas. I started life wandering the Sierra Nevada Mountains, John Muir’s Range of Light.I’ve been to the majority of National Parks.
Seeking out the strange such as ghosts and aliens (I’ve been to Roswell four times and Area 51 once).
Attending unique events like Burning Man.
Meeting weird people.
Bone backpacking on the John Muir Trail. -Curt
Bone, Curt and Tom Lovering at 10th and R Street Fox and Goose Restaurant in Sacramento. Tom owned the Alpine West backpacking and wilderness specialty store at this location when he and Curt discovered Bone in 1977. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)
Q:Tom Lovering and Curt ‘discovered’ you in 1977 when backpacking south of Lake Tahoe. You have wandered extensively with both. Which do you like best?
A. Eeyore, the jackass who can’t keep track of his tail. We’re traveling companions and he saved me from being strung up and buried on Boothill in Tombstone, Arizona. I’d robbed a bank, cheated at cards and hung out with women of questionable character. (This is what I mean by having a rich fantasy life. It’s also known as evasion.)
I was in deep trouble in Tombstone. Wyatt Earp had arrested me for robbing a bank and Doc Holiday was checking me for weapons. -Bone
My life as Bone was in serious jeopardy. -Bone
Odds were I was going to end up on Boothill, along with Billy Clanton. -Bone
But then, the ever brave Eeyore came to my rescue! I hopped on his back and we went riding off into the sunset while leaping over large rocks.
Q:Which of your journeys has been most memorable?
A. I would have to say traveling the length of Africa in the back of a truck from the Sahara Desert in the north to Cape Town in the south with Tom. Almost falling off the back of a riverboat into a piranha infested section of the Amazon River would have to be a close second. I was perched on the back railing doing a photo shoot with Peggy. And then, of course, there was the 10,000-mile bike trip with Curt in 1989 and hiking 750 miles down the Pacific Crest Trail with him to celebrate his 75th Birthday in 2018.
Bone on photo shoot barely escapes falling off the edge into the piranha infested waters of the Amazon. “I was falling off when Curt leapt across the boat and grabbed me.”
I was much smarter when I rafted down the Colorado. I wore a life jacket! -Bone
That didn’t protect me from pirates. The dreaded pirate Steve held a knife to my throat and demanded to know where I buried my treasure. -Bone
Q:You are often seen scrambling over rocks in remote sections of the Southwestern United States. What’s that all about?
A. I’ve developed a fondness for Native American rock art. It resonates with my bone-like nature. It’s also another excuse to go wandering around in the outdoors. Plus, some of those places might be haunted and it is a great place to look for UFOs. A number of petroglyphs look amazingly like aliens. Finally, wandering in the desert is known to be good for the soul. Ask the Prophets of yore.
How can this guy and his strange dog not be aliens? -Curt
Q:Ah, being a born-again bone, do you have any insights into the great unknown?
A. Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Q:Finally, and this may be a little sensitive, but do you always run around naked?
A. What kind of a question is that? Do you think I am uncivilized? For shame. I am the epitome of haute couture! A bow and arrow toting, card-carrying NRA member in Montana has designed and made me two leather vests. What’s more, a 90 plus year old woman in Kansas going on 20 with a crush on Johnny Depp and a room devoted to the Egyptian gods, has made me a kilt and several other outfits. Face it; I am hot stuff, clothed or naked. I may take up a modeling career.
My Bahamian/Canadian friend makes me a new vest in the wilds of Montana. –Bone
Bone, wearing his newly made kilt, fights off a ferocious sea monster in a scene straight out of ‘Pirates of the Caribbean.’ –Curt
Next post I’ll do a wrap on the many places Bone has been in his 49 years of wandering the world.
Bone, feeling a little low, in Death Valley National Park. It is one of the numerous stops he made with Curt on his 10,000 mile bicycle ride through the US and Canada.Peggy and I are presently in the Greek city of Nafplio on the Peloponnesian Pininsula. On our way down from Athens yesterday, we stopped at several Ancient Greek sites, one of which was Mycenae (where Helen of Troy originally came from). I was going to show you the gate to the city until Peggy pointed out this kitten on the trail up to it.
Catarata Los Murcielagos is a steep but easily reachable waterfall found in the heart of Monteverde, Costa Rica. It took about 20 minutes for Peggy and me to hike to it. Catarata translates to cataract and Murcielagos to bats. So we have a cascading waterfall with bats. We didn’t see any bats but the person-wide, shaky bridge and the gaping mouth of the ficus tree roots made up for it. Bright sun overwhelmed the bridge and made the ficus tree root tunnel look pitch black. The tunnel jogged to the left and deposited us close to the base of the waterfall where we enjoyed the water and took more photos.This is another bridge over the small creek that we crossed before reaching the waterfalls. I’m not sure whether the green, plastic walls were to protect people from falling off or to provide a sense of security! Probably a bit of both. The wall was flimsy enough that I wouldn’t have wanted to fall into it.Peggy provides a good perspective on how flimsy the narrow the bridge was. Between the bridges and the Ficus tree, it felt like we had ended up in an Indiana Jones or Lara Croft movie. Peggy is maneuvering a bit more carefully than Indiana or Lara would have, however. (I did too.)The top of the waterfall.And bottom. Peggy had been to the waterfall before with our son Tony, his wife Cammie and their three boys. The waterfalls provides a small but enjoyable swim. She had waded out to the waist-high middle.Top, bottom, in-between and pool. The whole shebang!
While I was wandering around taking bird photos and exploring jungle trails near our VRBO in Monteverde, Peggy went out on another waterfall hike with our son and his family. Know as El Tigre Waterfalls, it was an up and down 5-mile self-guided walk through a cloud forest that included more rustic bridges and four waterfalls. I urged Peggy to take good photos. And she did! Following are the results.
Tony, Cammie and one of the four waterfalls.A narrower but still gorgeous waterfall.A close up catching the right side of the waterfall.Peggy with our grandson Chris.Trees provided an interesting screen for the waterfall from another perspective. A smaller waterfall can be seen in the background.This was a first. A zipline for bicycles. Our grandson Connor is making his way across, looking quite serious.“Look, Mom, no hands.” Our grandson Cooper at the beginning of the zipline.When I think of a waterfall cascading down a mountain, this is what I picture.Photo of Tony with some really big leaves!I’ll conclude with this photo. I think of Cammie saying, “Another photo, really?” It was a steep uphill. Peggy may have been taking photos as an excuse to stop. Either that or to fulfill her responsibility as a mother/grandmother— not to mention my request to bring back lots of photos!
Peggy and I are off journeying through Greece, Scotland and Ireland over the next several weeks, so there won’t be much time for blogging. Initially, I decided to put the blog on hold, but I’ve decided to republish some of my favorite posts that may eventually make it into UT-OH!.
On Wednesday my dog Socrates and I head off into the wilderness on a guy’s trip. It’s the 70s, so I am carrying a book by Carlos Castaneda and meditating while Socrates digs holes and downs Milk Bones. Strange things happen.
Since the popular tourist town of La Fortuna was only 30 miles away from Nuevo Arenal where we were staying, we decided to drive over and check it out. La Fortuna had avoided being destroyed by the violent eruption of Mt. Arenal in 1968 and used the continuing volcanic action over the following 40 years to draw tourists from around the world. While the volcano ceased its activity in 2010, its smoking top still provides a popular attraction for visitors.
Mt. Arenal looms above the Costa Rica town of La Fortuna, a mere 6 miles away. It was cloudy when we visited so we couldn’t see the smoke that that escapes from the top. The red sign on the right proclaims Vulcan Arenal and points toward the mountain. A fan palm reaches out from the right. We were on the Big Island of Hawaii last year when Kīlauea was erupting, so we understand the attraction of a live volcano— as long as it is behaving itself.This photo from Wikimedia Commons of Mt. Arenal during its active but non-destructive phase shows why millions of tourists would have made their way to La Fortuna.Signs along the road advertised different ways tourists might want to enjoy the mountain. Options here included on the back of a horse, from a zip-line, or on your feet. The unreadable sign down on the right pushed using ATVs. For more laidback tourists, several hot springs— created by underground water’s close proximity to lava— demanded a visit. Numerous storefront operations along the streets of La Fortuna were eager to sign up visitors for these, and other tours. For example, one could repel down a waterfall, hike on hanging bridges, tour chocolate and coffee farms, or go on wildlife tours. The latter included seeing sloths.Good views of Mt. Arenal can be seen from anywhere in the town, including behind Iglesia de La Fortuna de San Carlos, the town’s Catholic Church.A small but attractive town park in front of the church featured Costa Rica’s flag…A large heart where visitors could have a photo taken. Peggy decided that I should be in one. And…Bunches of Cana lilies. These beauties, which can be found in flower gardens around the world, are actually native to Costa Rica.A block away, we found a mural featuring a jaguar and a woman. The thrush seems to be whispering something in the girl’s ear while its cousin, a robin, looks on.For lunch, we decided that eating in the lava lounge (on the right) was appropriate.A painting inside displayed an exploding Mt. Arenal. Peggy insisted on taking a photo, a challenge since the glass covering it reflected light coming in from the windows.
We thought the message was clear. An exploding volcano might be a mind boggling sight, but it isn’t something you would want in your backyard. The name of the town reminded me of the Roman Goddess, Fortuna. She was the goddess of fate, and could be rather fickle, bringing both good and bad luck. La Fortuna was on the good luck side. The nearby villages of Tabacón, Pueblo Nuevo, and San Luís were on the other. They had been completely destroyed by pyroclastic flows in 1968. The explosion had been so powerful that it had tossed up massive lava bombs weighing several tons. The giant boulders had been thrown a distance of a half mile traveling at speeds of 1300 miles per hour. If volcanos played baseball, I’d want Arenal on my team!When I went to use the men’s restroom in the restaurant, I found a kitty litter box right next to it, complete with a kitty taking care of business. How appropriate! Peggy and I laughed. We had to take a photo. The Lava Lounge is known for its rescue work with stray dogs and cats roaming the streets of La Fortuna.A sign on the wall declared “Love for all living creatures is the most notable human attribute,” a sentiment we agree with.After lunch, Peggy and I wandered around the small town checking out various shops. Peggy, whose love of chocolate is legendary, had to buy a dark chocolate bar. It came with this interesting wrapper. The label on top declared it as Nahua Costa Rican Chocolate. The Nahuas are an indigenous tribe of Mexico and Central America, ancestors of the Aztecs. They would have used chocolate extensively, consuming it as a bitter, frothy beverage known as xocolātl. Cocoa beans were also used for money. If you are familia with the movie Chocolat, Vianne would likely have been a descendant of the Nahua.On our way out of town we passed an artist’s studio with this statue. A carved sloth is climbing on the tree behind. A primitive monster posed above Earth. Was it going to gobble up the planet? And why did my mind jump to politics?Our trip to and from La Fortuna from Nuevo Arenal produced several interesting sights. This large truck demonstrated the width of the road. Passing wasn’t much of an option. When two large trucks met each other they slowed to a crawl, almost stopping to get by. Bridges along the road narrowed even further, with room for one vehicle at a time. While there were rules about who went first, using them felt like Russian Roulette to us, especially on a blind curve. We wondered why a number of cars had pulled off the road. We discovered that it was to watch a band of coatis foraging for food. They have long sharp claws for digging and a tough nose for ferreting out food.This guy had a dirty nose to prove it. We read that their diet ranged from insects to fruit. Tarantulas and scorpions were downed with the same enthusiasm they used for other items on the menu.Costa Rica is a ‘grow your own fence’ kind of place. Shove a stick into the ground, wait for it to root and grow limbs, connect the trees with barbed wire, and voila! you have a fence.The fences can be quite impressive once they grow out. And they don’t rot, which is a real problem in Costa Rica with standard wood posts. When Costa Ricans do choose to use fence posts, they are made out of cement.Restaurants ranging from a roof on poles to more elaborate establishments were found along the road. Each providing an adventure in eating. This Toucan Lane restaurant came with its own toucan out front There was a good chance it also came with a bird-feeding station that attracted toucans in the back. The sign in the background declared “That’s how fairy tales taste.” I’m not sure what the ‘taste’ referred to. Toucans?We passed over the Lake Arenal Dam coming and going.And were also treated to several views of the lake. That’s it for today. Next on UT-OH, I will take you to Sierra College where my conservative upbringing was put to test. President Harold Weaver and College Trustees review plans for the soon to be finished Sierra College in 1961. It was brand new when I arrived in that fall. While I would go on to UC Berkeley for my Junior and Senior years, many of my views of the world were developed in my time at Sierra. I’ll use Wednesday’s and Friday’s post to summarize the four most important.
A note on you never know who is going to read your blogs. I got an Email this week from Emily Bell, a producer for the Discovery Channel. The channel is doing a Revolutionary War feature on Brandywine, Fort Mifflin, and the Pennsylvania Navy as part of the Nation’s 250 Anniversary celebration. In doing her research she had read my post on Fort Mifflin and wanted to know if I would be available to participate. Here’s what she had to say:
The story of the Mekemson brothers is truly remarkable. We are focusing on the Battle of Brandywine, the siege of Fort Mifflin, and the heroic, often overlooked role of the Pennsylvania Navy. Because all four brothers fought together at Brandywine before splitting up, with Andrew and James heading to Fort Mifflin while Thomas and William joined the PA Navy, their journey offers a deeply heartfelt thread that ties these massive historical events together.
Unfortunately, I’ll be in Greece when the Discovery Channel is doing its filming at Fort Mifflin. I will be talking with Emily this week with more background information on the family before the war, however.
It’s the look. The odds are high that you recognize it. Parents give it to children, teachers to students, bosses to employees, wives to husbands. Etc. It’s behave or else, with a multitude of possibilities if you don’t. Peggy, as a retired elementary school principal, has a potent one. I don’t get it often, but when I do… The look is particularly imposing on the Montezuma Oropendola (Psarocolius montezuma). The slightly protruding eyes, set off by the white patches and pink wattles, are backed up by an imposing beak. The pink circle at top emphasizes length. The orange tip means business. If one giving you the look is worrisome, think of two. I wouldn’t want to tangle with the feet, either. Courting among the large males (they have twice the mass of the females) is one big brawl. The winner gets the girl, usually several of them!This Montezuma Oropendola was feasting on pineapple found in the bird feeding table that was located in front of our Villa in Nuevo Arenal. I imagine that his namesake, Montezuma, the last of the Aztec rulers, would have been pleased to have this large, distinctive bird given his name. The Oropendola fits as well, given how much gold the Aztecs had gathered and how Cortez lusted after it. Oro means gold in Spanish. Pendola means feather. It refers to the gold tail feathers found on the bird.The Masked Tityra (Tityra semifasciata) also had a unique, but not so threatening look. This bird is easily identified by a pinkish ‘mask’ around its eyes. I found it hanging out on the eaves of our house in Monteverde.The Tityra appeared as interested in me as I was it in. Actually, he was looking for a female that he had been trying to impress. When I spotted him, he was running back and forth on the eave with his wings drooping and sounding like a constipated frog. Apparently it was his mating dance.On the other side of our house in Monteverde, we found this woodpecker carved hole that would make an excellent home for a bird.A Streak-headed Woodcreeper (Lepidocolaptes souleyetii) seemed to agree. Its usual choice for a nest is a hole in a tree pecked out by a woodpecker, or natural. There seemed to be a problem. It would climb up the tree, peak in the hole and immediately fly back down the trunk to repeat the process. It wasn’t creeping; it was scrambling. I watched it check out the hole several times in the same way. I was beginning to wonder if the pecker was present.Suddenly, this little head peeked out to see what was going on.It was a Golden-olive Woodpecker (Colaptes rubiginosus). And yes, it probably had pecked the hole out of the dead tree. The creeper could go find a vacant hole for its home. Next time he/she showed up (male and female Streak-headed Woodcreepers have the same plumage), more than the hole might be pecked.Here’s another creeper, the Red-legged Honeycreeper. It isn’t, however, related to the Streak-headed Woodcreeper that makes its living off of crawling up trunks and eating insects. It’s related to tanagers instead. The Honeycreeper gets the honey part of his name because its passion is for sipping nectar out of flowers. Creeper comes from creeping through treetops and vines foraging for the flowers. This is a female. The male is an electric light and dark blue.Here’s another bird known for its love of nectar, a hummingbird. In this case a Green-crowned Brilliant (Heliodoxa jacula). We took its photo at a hummingbird feeding station in Monteverde with several feeders. Hummers were buzzing everywhere. The only thing more numerous than the birds were the people oohing and aahing over them. It was hard for Peggy and me to capture photos of hummers without tourists (Turista numeroso) in them. I’m not sure what the photo-bombing bug was.A fun shot of the Green-crowned Brilliant looking up. Note the yellow at the tip of its beak. That’s its tongue sticking out, a rather specialized appendage that can extend up to twice the length of its beak for obtaining nectar. It doesn’t sip the nectar like we would with a straw, however. It’s more like capturing the nectar. Researchers at the University of Connecticut have discovered that the tongue is a “dynamic, shape-shifting, and active pump. As it shoots out, the tongue reaches nectar and splits at the tip. The two grooves/tips open, and tiny, hair-like structures (lamellae) unfurl, trapping the nectar. Upon returning to the mouth, the flaps close, sealing in the liquid.” It can repeat this process up to 20 times a second, thousands of times a day, whether it is getting its nectar from a flower, or your hummingbird feeder. It’s also used for drinking water. I’ll conclude today with a handsome Great Kiskadee (Pitangus sulphuratus), a member of the tyrant flycatcher family.Peggy swore it was posing for her. We had a lamp post in front of our villa in Nuevo Arenal that it liked to hang out on. It would fly off its perch, return, and assume a different pose! It was zipping out to catch flying insects out of the air, an important part of its diet. The Great Kiskadee is omnivorous, however. It won’t pass up small snakes, frogs, lizards, or chicks and has even been known to fish for tadpoles. On bird feeders it’s been seen eating bread, peanut butter, bananas, and dog food. Woof! It’s known for being monogamous, hanging out with the same partner year around. I was beginning to think that it had a thing for Peggy. UT-OH! And that brings me to my next chapter in the book I am blogging.Founded during the Gold Rush, Placerville was once known as Hangtown for its harsh treatment of outlaws. On the day I was supposed to graduate from high school, I made the innocent* mistake of cussing out the city’s chief of police. He couldn’t hang me, fortunately, but he did give me a choice: I could spend my evening in jail cell or graduate. The former was an UT-OH! of gigantic proportions. *I didn’t recognize him.
We heard its screech before we saw it. “Jay,” I announced to Peggy. Its call is unmistakeable unless it is modified because of its situation. Or mood. At our property in Oregon, I even heard them make the sound of a hawk— to amuse themselves, I’m sure. It scares the heck out of other birds and small mammals. Their personality, intelligence, and possible warped sense of humor, makes them one of my all time favorite birds. These handsome birds with their Groucho Marx eyebrows are known as a Brown Jays (Psilorhinus morio). Their range reaches from the Rio Grande Valley in southern Texas to northwestern Panama. The white under-belly on this one marks it is a member of the southern subspecies. As for their diet, they are omnivorous: Insects, lizards, fruit: It’s all good. They were regular visitors to the bird feeding table in front of our villa in Nuevo Arenal and happily downed the fruit of the day, whatever it was. But do they eat chicken? We had to travel to Monteverde, Costa Rica to answer this question.We were in Monteverde when I spotted a Brown Jay carrying nest building materials. I grabbed my camera and went hunting. This one was actually wearing an identification band. The birds work together to build a nest. The female then sits on the eggs until they are ready to hatch. The male feeds her during the process. Offspring from a previous season will sometimes help in the feeding of the chicks, but they transfer the food to mom and dad for the actual process. I couldn’t find the nest, but I noted something else about this Jay beyond its band.It had found the bone of a discarded chicken leg and was pecking the marrow out of it. As I noted, they’re omnivorous. The one-eyed look was fun.A Clay-Colored Thrush, (Turdus grayi) or Yigüirro, as they are known in Costa Rica, is the national bird of the country. The bird originally gained its popularity in the country’s folklore by singing a beautiful song just before the beginning of rainy season. The natives thought that the yigüirro brought the welcome and necessary rain. Actually, the male who sang the song, wasn’t trying to bring the rainy season. He was busily courting a female before the rainy season started. It’s when they mate, build nests and raise families. But it makes a great story and the male still has a beautiful song.
It appears that this Thrush has caught a worm that wasn’t interested in being swallowed. As we watched it hop around on the lawn searching for such delicacies, we were reminded of its cousin, the Robin. Thrushes share a lot in common. I doubt you would find a Robin following a foraging mass of army ants to feast on the insects that are fleeing to escape, however, which is what the Clay-Colored Thrushes do. I immediately thought of the army ants that invaded my house when I was living in West Africa. We discovered their attack when numerous small bugs came hopping, running, and crawling under our screen door in an effort to escape. The Thrush would have been quite happy to scarf them up. I’m sure the Robin would have as well. But it might not have had the Thrush’s sense to fly off before the ants arrive. We saw a mouse make that mistake. It was his last. Not wanting to end up like the mouse, we went to war. I’ll tell the story in UT-OH!.Here a Clay Colored Thrush and a Palm Tanager check each other out. It’s likely that they are having a discussion over who gets the fruit. Alternatively, I like to think that the thrush is saying, “Wow! You are really beautiful.”“Can I offer you a piece of Pineapple?”A fluffed up view of the palm tanager. They often nest and hang out in palm trees, which is how they get their names.Another dining table discussion? Here, a Buff-Throated Saltator is checking out an appropriately named Scarlet-Rumped Tanager. These, along with several other of the smaller birds I am featuring here, often flock together for feeding purposes. (Safety in numbers?) The Tanager is chowing down on a bite of pineapple. It’s hard to find a more easily identified bird than this Scarlet-Rumped Tanager (Ramphocelus passerinii), unless you are looking for the female of the species.I was surprised when my bird ID app, Merlin, told me that these were Scarlet Rumped Tanagers. I double and then triple checked it! The name for when the male and female birds of the same species look so dramatically different, btw, is sexual dimorphism.I like this head-on photo of the female Scarlet Rumped Tanager. Landing gears down!A Buff-throated Saltator (Saltator maximus) gives me the look. Originally classified with cardinals and grosbeaks (given its beak), recent DNA research has shown that they are instead related to Tanagers. I like the soft look of the feathers.This frontal view gives the reason for the Buff-throated Saltator’s name.The long view! The head of the Saltator looked metallic in this photo.It was nest building time for the Blue and White Swallow (Pygochelidon cyanoleuca) of Monteverde. I’d watched this one pick up and reject several small straws until it arrived at this large piece that it flew away with. I’m always impressed with their streamlined look. It serves them well when they are practicing their insect-catching aerobatics in the air. Peggy and I enjoyed watching them whiz about from our porch in the evening. They would often land, and possibly had a nest on the roof beam above the porch. The bright evening sky gave their blue a black look. We weren’t sure whether it was chirping at us or its fellow flyers.I’ll conclude my collection today with the Muscuvy duck (Cairina moschata) that has both feral and domesticated versions. The duck was first domesticated in the tropical Americas during preColumbian times. You’ve may have seen the domesticated version, like this one, swimming around in park ponds. If so, you probably haven’t forgotten it.It has a very unique look!Head shot! That’s it for today. On Wednesday I’ll be featuring Earth Day. It’s worth saving. Our survival— as well as that of numerous other plants and animals— depends up on it.One would think that the Giant Saguaro cacti of the Sonoran Desert would welcome Global Warming with open arms, but the truth is, it is one of numerous species that are threatened today. The increased drought and extreme heat of global warming prevent seedling survival, cause structural collapse of adult plants, and encourage wildfires capable of wiping out wide swaths of these majestic plants. Another species threatened by Global Warming is the Eastern Box Turtle. The increasing heat disrupts their reproductive cycles and sex ratios. Once found often, they are now rarely seen. Peggy found this one crawling down our driveway yesterday, heading toward the traffic clogged highway that runs in front of our apartment. She saved it, at least temporarily, by taking it down to the creek that flows through the property and turning it loose, far from the road. She set it down and away it zoomed (with zoom defined in turtle speed).
The view looking up into a Ficus Tree. These are all roots!
So, here’s the question: Do you like figs? Me, not so much— unless they are located in a Fig Newton. I carried them on backpack trips for years. They were yummy. The birds and monkeys and other animals of Costa Rica don’t have my finickiness when it comes to downing fresh figs; they devour them with relish. And then they poop out the seeds. No surprise there, of course, since they can’t digest them. It a relatively common way that seeds/plants are distributed.
But here is where it gets interesting in terms of Ficus costaricana, the strangler fig of Costa Rica. The bathroom for birds, bats, monkeys and other arboreal animals that eat figs is often up in the tree tops, the canopies, which is where the seeds sprout and turn into an epiphyte. For those of you who may not be up on botany, an epiphyte is a plant that grows on a tree or other plant without harming the tree by obtaining its nutrients from the surrounding air, water and debris instead of the tree. We even saw one thriving on a metal lamp post.
This epiphyte seemed quite happy growing on a lamp post in Nuevo Arenal, Costa Rica.
The ficus is something of an exception to the no-harm rule, however. It sends roots out that eventually reach the ground and start to feed the ficus directly. The roots grow in size, surround the tree, and dig deep into the ground. At the same time, the limbs shoot up to provide sunlight for the figs leaves. Between the roots stealing water, and the leaves stealing sunlight, the fig eventually kills its host. Not nice. The process isn’t actually strangulation, but the result is the same. Dead is dead. Eventually, the dead tree rots out, leaving the Ficus with a hollow core.
We were on our way to a waterfall when a hollow ficus tree became part of the trail . We had just crossed a rickety Indiana Jones type bridge. Peggy provides perspective. The waterfall is off to the left and will be featured in a future post.Another advantage of the hollow ficuses are that they provide great opportunities for tree climbers. Proving the point, our grandson, Connor perches about 15 feet up.One of the hanging roots that hadn’t yet reached the ground, provided a monkey-style swinging vine for our youngest grandson, Cooper. Had he hung on with one hand and pounded his chest, he could have been Tarzan!Another view looking up into the ficus tree. This giant was about a hundred yards away from where we were staying in Monteverde. The owner of the VRBO, Tobi, had taken us over to the tree and demonstrated swinging on the vine!And finally, our most unusual view of Ficus tree. The owners of this property called it simply La Raiz, the Root, and charged us $2 each to visit. The ‘root’ was well worth the price.It spanned a small creek and formed a bridge.A side view.Peggy on the other side of the bridge. I thought the roots made good candidates for rendering in black and white.Our son Tony thought the bridge provided a great place to sit. I’m pretty sure the boys would have made their way across the bridge, but parents (and grandparents) vetoed the option.Instead, they were all over the roots. A close up of our grandson Chris among the roots. His interest in bio-tech meant he spent much of his time in the jungle checking out the various plants. His bedroom resembles a greenhouse.The extent of the roots was impressive. These would have originally been under the ground but the creek had exposed them. It’s easy to see how the roots could have out-competed the host tree for water.Peggy and I preferred photographing them to crawling on them, wisely so, I suspect.
My next post: UT-OH Chapter 14: Surviving Baseball Bats and Dynamite Caps
Our jungle night hike in Costa Rica introduced us to the Owl Butterfly in addition to the tarantula, pit vipers, and scorpions we featured on that post. Some fun, huh. This owl butterfly photo was taken during the day at the Monteverde Butterfly Gardens, where we visited to see it, and other butterflies of Costa Rica, up close.
The owl butterfly is so named because the large spot on the lower part of the wing. It has a matching spot on the other wing that resemble an owl’s eyes when the wings are open and seen from below. It’s called mimicry. One theory is that predators see the eyes and decide that fleeing is a better option than chomping lest they end up being the chompee. Another theory is that the predator sees the eyes and thinks that they represent the head of the butterfly, bites down, and get a mouthful of wing instead of the body. Given that the owl butterfly is one of the giants of the butterfly world with a 6-8 inch wing span, it has plenty of wing left to still fly. Either theory leaves the butterfly free to complete its goal in life, which is to breed and have babies, i.e. lay eggs.
The eggs hatch into tiny caterpillars that come with a voracious appetite and quickly grow in size. Molting frequently, they change their looks each time. The caterpillar on the right is a younger version of the caterpillar on the left. The large hole in the banana leaf is why the big caterpillar is so big. It’s also the reason why banana farmers aren’t particularly fond of these insects that can grow 5 to 6 inches long off of devouring their plants before entering their chrysalis stage.From the perspective of the banana leaf, these owl caterpillars must look like one long gut approaching. The biggest one is about to enter the chrysalis stage of the metamorphous from caterpillar to butterfly. The first step is for to dissolve into a nutrient rich goop. Specialized cells that survive the melting process then utilize the nutrients to develop into the adult butterfly.The owl butterfly is quite beautiful when seen from above with its wings in open position. Here it was busy consuming watermelon that staff had left out for it. On the right is another one of Costa Rica’s best known butterflies, the blue morpho.Here a number of blue morpho are simultaneously hatching out of their chrysalis at a special hatching station that the Monteverde Butterfly Garden maintains for this purpose. Their wings have to dry and harden before they are ready to fly.Peggy found this blue morph chrysalis looking leaflike out in the Monteverde Butterfly Gardens. The chrysalis of the owl butterfly, btw, resembles the head of a viper. Both the leaf and the viper chrysalises are two more examples of evolutionary mimicry.A blue morph resting on leaves.A blue morpho gave us a brief glimpse of the vibrant blue color of its inner wing that gives the butterfly its name.
And now, for a quick look at some of the other beauties we photographed at the Monteverde Butterfly Gardens. Given that there are between 1200 and 1500 species of butterflies in Costa Rica, I’m late with this post, and my mind is on butterfly overload, I didn’t have time to pin down all the names.
Set off by green, a Green Longwing Butterfly. Great camouflage. One of a number of butterflies that pretend to be dead leaves. This may be excellent camouflage on leaf litter covered forest floor. Not so good here.Red spots. This may be a ‘see me, see me’ look as opposed to camouflage. The caterpillars of some butterflies feast on plants that are poisonous to birds, lizards and other predators. The poison is transferred to the butterfly. Instead of hiding, the butterfly, announces its presence with bright colors that are designed to tell predators ‘You really don’t want to eat me.’ Other butterflies may adopt the same colorization in what is known as Batesian mimicry. They aren’t poisonous, but who’s to know the difference?Lunch. Butterflies, unlike caterpillars, sip nectar with their long proboscis instead of eating leaves. This is a HeliconiusSara (I think.)This sulfur colored butterfly is using its proboscis to sip watermelon juice. Note the color of the proboscis. Many Costa Rican butterflies take advantage of fallen, rotting (translate fermenting) fruit for food. They can actually become a little tipsy.This one looks like the same species as above with its wings open.Brown on green.I call this a finger butterfly since it landed on Peggy’s finger and refused to get off. It may be a Crimson Longwing.I’m going with a Malachite Butterfly on this one.And this one as well even through the colors are dramatically different. But note how close the pattern of their spots is. The butterflies often rested on the screens that kept them in the butterfly houses. Maybe they were longing to be free.Peggy’s favorite, a Starry Night Cracker Butterfly.And a final beauty. This is a Variable Cracker Butterfly. The unusual cracker name is said to come from the noise they make when they are flying.As for what noise that is, I lifted this: “The Cracker butterfly gets its name because the males are able to produce a crackling sound, reminiscent of bacon cooking in a frying pan. They make the sound when they take off, by twanging a pair of spiny rods on their abdomen against their anal claspers.” Not sure about the anal clasper but it brings a vision to mind.
Next Post: It’s back to UT-OH with two more final tales about the Mekemson Gang. There’s the issue of how I lived up to Bertha Brays expectations about my leading her son astray (although there’s an issue of who led who.) And there’s a question about why Tony Pavy wanted to shoot me. It had to do with his pig.
Night tours are big in Monteverde, Costa Rica. Every corner seems to advertise one. Take a dash of the exotic, throw in a pinch of danger, add a competent, knowledgeable guide— and how can one resist? No wonder there were at least 10 companies to choose from. There is big money to be made. We paid our $300 and off we went. We had an excellent guide, Marvin. He found us each of the big three, don’t mess with me, attractions, plus more.
This iridescent, blue-green fellow was one of the creatures we came across. Actually, our youngest grandson, Cooper, spotted it first. Our son Tony claimed ‘That’s because Cooper is closest to the ground.” You will recognize this blue-green insect for what he is. A scorpion. I’ve seen many over the years. But never one of this striking color. They all pack a mean sting. Costa Rica claims that no one has ever died in the country from a scorpion. Well, except for that one girl…This one seemed almost tame in comparison. Our grandson, Chris, found it crawling up the wall behind him where he was watching TV at our VRBO. “Grandpa,” he yelled, “You have to see this.” “Well, hello,” I said, to the scorpion, and sent Chris scurrying for something to catch it with. He came back with a martini glass, i.e. large top, shallow bottom. Not ideal for catching something that packs a wallop in its tail, but great for a double martini if you get stung. Make it a triple. I slapped it over the top of scorpion but missed the offending appendage. It was swishing around trying to find me. I turned the glass right side up and he slid to the bottom, looking thoroughly peeved. “Just be glad it’s me,” I told him. “Anyone else and you’d be a grease spot on the wall.” It waved its tail at me in a single digit salute. I took him over to our balcony and tossed him out of the glass into the shrubs below. Chris, Peggy and I made a pact not to tell anyone else in our household. Mom might have had them packing.Next, on our pitch dark night, Marvin found a baby green pit viper known by the scientific name of Bothriechis lateralis, or if you prefer something you can pronounce, a side-striped palm pit viper. Apparently, they like to hang out in palms. Note its distinctive triangle shaped head: A sure sign you are dealing with a viper. Translate poisonous. There would be no trying to catch it! Least of all in a martini glass. I took this photo.Marvin, carried a spotting scope that gave us another view of the side-striped palm viper. He used Tony’s cell phone to take a photo through the scope. Here, you can see the stripe along its side. We each carried flashlights so we could see the trail plus light up whatever we wanted photos of. Not too far down the trail, we found an adult side-striped palm viper and Marvin took this photo through his spotting scope.I focused in on the upper part of its body. The viper, like New World monkeys, has a prehensile tail. It can use it to wrap around a limb while it dangles and relaxes. Or, he can whip it out to wrap around and retrieve dinner in the form of lizards and small rodents. While poisonous, few people die from its bite. Not so the lizards or a tasty mouse. The final member of our trio, a Costa Rican zebra tarantula, also known as the striped-knee tarantula. Peggy took this photo. These large spiders dig deep burrows into the ground which helps regulate temperatures. It’s reported that they often live together in large numbers. One was enough for us, but I must say, it was quite striking.Just so this post doesn’t give you nightmares, our night tour also produced less threatening species. This is Lesson’s Motmot seen through Marvin’s spotting scope. An owl butterfly. Marvin told us it was one of the largest butterflies in Costa Rica. It has large spots on the lower parts of its wings that resemble owl’s eyes when its wings are open.
Next up, the Mekemson Kids Did It: Something go wrong in Diamond Springs? Who do you blame? Like the gunslingers of the Old West, we developed a reputation that far exceeded our capacity for mischief.
Wandering through Time and Place 