A Well Overdue Look Back At My Puerto Rican Adventure

I think its natural at the end of the year to reflect upon the year that has just passed.  Of course for me, a large part of this year’s reflection has included my trip to Puerto Rico.  I realized that I never really wrote a post to summarize my experience, and I wanted to take some time doing just that.

My time in Puerto Rico came at a critical juncture in my life.  My full time position at Notre Dame had just ended, and I was ready to immerse myself in something completely different from what I was used to.  It turned out to be one of the most challenging, but also most rewarding experiences.  I learned more about myself, my professional interests, and what I value in life. 

Before I arrived in Puerto Rico, I thought maybe I would want to study landscape dynamics of tropical forests in grad school.  I loved hiking into the grid and being surrounded by trees bigger than I ever imagined.  Workdays went faster watching anoles run across twigs and hummingbirds flit around my head.  And nothing was better than post-lunch power naps, using my backpack as a pillow.   Though I still didn’t find an academic passion I would want to pursue.   However, every trip we made to the coast, whether it was snorkeling in sea grasses and coral reefs or hiking through the mangroves, solidified how much of a draw I feel to those environments.  I still have some soul searching to do before I can nail down the type of graduate program I want.  But spending time in Puerto Rico definitely helped me narrow down the ecosystems that interest me most.  

For the most part, I kept my blog focused on the exciting adventures I faced.  And living in Puerto Rico was certainly filled with these.  What I didn’t write about were the challenges of station life.  I frequently struggled with the isolation of living on a mountain and working with conflicting personalities.   Breakfasts with a dozen people singing and talking early in the morning were absolutely hell for me.  But I found refuge quietly eating my cereal or yogurt on the porch gazing at my surroundings.  I found other spots where I could steal away for brief periods of time on weekends too, like reading on the roof or napping in the hammock.  Even running up that steep road, constantly swearing at the hill, I found a meditative solace that was all my own. 

While I truly valued time to myself, I did meet a few people that made station life more enjoyable as well.  We all stayed up way later than was responsible and shared nerdy websites on a nightly basis.  The highlight of our week was the nights we could download and watch the latest episodes of The Walking Dead or Archer.  And nerdy websites to share were never in short supply.  We were a good group and it was nice to have people to lean on.  I know I’ve made these friends for life.

Of the friends I made at El Verde, one made a particularly strong impact.  For the first time in a long time, I let myself get close to someone.  I mustered up the courage to tell him about my feelings and was delighted when they were reciprocated.  The time we shared at the station was so brief as he moved on to his next adventures and I was still at continued mine in Puerto Rico.  I stumbled through intense emotions that were both euphoric and heartbreaking.  If I made any mistakes, it may have been my insistence to be transparent with my feelings to a point where I may have come on too strong.  In the end, I’m proud of myself knowing that I can care so intensely for someone.  Our relationship may have been fleeting, but we went our separate ways knowing we’ll be close friends.

The hardest part of all was saying goodbye as my closest friends left the station one by one.  I make stronger friendships with volunteers on the tree team than I did on the seedling squad.  The tree census ended before the seedling census and week by week, my friends at the station away.  It’s hard having people cycle in and out of your life for such brief periods of time.  Such is the nature of fieldwork.  But none of us have settled in life yet.  Who knows when we’ll meet again.  In the mean time, I’m thankful for facebook, email, and other wonders of technology that keep me connected to my friends who are half a world away.

By the end of my experience I was ready to come home. There are so many things I don’t miss about El Verde.  I don’t miss living out of a suit case, how weird all of my stuff always smelled, or having ants crawl all over everything.  I gladly walked away from strong personalities, unproductive morning meetings, and lax work ethics that conflicted my own.  Still there are more things that I think of fondly.  I miss the swimming holes in the river, the coquis serenading me to sleep, never getting carded anywhere, and feeling tall compared most Puerto Ricans.  In general, I miss station life and our giant shared meals every night.  I miss Seth’s stories, Aaron’s shenanigans, and philosophical rooftop discussions with Sheffin.  This list could go on and on, and it even includes Medalla light.

When my plane took off from San Juan and I watched the island that I had called home for the last four months grow smaller out the window, I felt a flood of emotions wash over me.  It was like the entire gravity of my experience weighed on me at once.  I had taken a chance and flew to a place that I had never been to work in a forest of which I had no knowledge with people I never met.  I got more out of that experience than I ever expected, and I’m so proud of myself for taking that leap. For all the trial and tribulations, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.  I know for a fact that it has been a stepping stone for the rest of my career and even my life. 

My Solo-Rican Adventure: An Existential Journey

Ever since I turned 16, my car has been a symbol of my independence.  It gives me a freedom that I have sorely missed in Puerto Rico.  I decided to rent a car and take a drive around the island on my own.  I hadn't seen the west coast yes, so I planned a drive through the central mountains, up the west coast, and back across the north.

Seth dropped me off to pick up my Jeep Wrangler on Saturday morning.  I left Rio Grande around 9 am and drove about an hour and a half to the Coamo hot springs.  Here, geothermal water is the source for two pools that where geriatric locals made the majority of the clientele.  I soaked the warm water of one of the pool feeling the cool mountain breeze around my shoulders.  I felt relaxed and detoxified.  After about 20 minutes, I was ready to get on my way.

Coamo Hotsprings nestled in the Central Mountains

Unlike the cloudy north coast, the sun shined brightly on the south side of the island.  Before leaving Coamo, I removed the roof panels from the top of the Wrangler.  With the sun on my shoulders, I drove a long the south shore through the dry forest to Cabo Rojo on the south west corner of the island.  I had read that I would have to park my car and walk about half an hour to the beach and lighthouse.  But I just kept driving as far as the road would let me and ended up parking right at the coast! I followed a trail up to the lighthouse on the hill.  The bright blue-green water of the Caribbean Sea lapped against the limestone cliffs.  I couldn't resist taking a dip in the water when I hiked down.

The Cabo Rojo lighthouse 

Playa Sucia in Cabo Rojo

On my drive out of the park, I stopped at the visitor center.  Two artisans and a conservation worker were inside and I chatted with them for a while.  The tipped me off to a bar in Rincon, where I was headed next.  After taking a few pictures of the salt flats, I pointed the Wrangler north and continued on my journey.

Clouds had been moving towards the west, and the rain started just as approached Rincon.  I pulled over at a gas station to reattach the roof panels.  I was a little bummed, but it would be getting dark soon anyway.  I found the bar that the people in Cabo Rojo recommended.  It was actually an open air bar in the Villa Cofresi resort.  I ordered coconut shrimp to snack on and a "Pirate Special": Coconut water, rum, and a little cinnamon served inside the coconut!  It was the perfect Caribbean drink.  I enjoyed my  treats and watched the storm from my beachfront stool at the bar.  I let my drink settle and finished my shrimp then drove through the rest of the adorable little surf community, stopping to take pictures of the lighthouse and beautiful coastline.

The bar at Villa Cofresi

Snack time!!!

It was almost 6 pm when I departed for my last destination in Isabela.  The sun was setting, and I wondered if I would have enough light to find El Pozo de Jacinto.  Along a rocky coast is an eroded blow hole.  Local legend says that a cattle herder named Jacinto lost his favorite cow down this hole.  He went in after the cow and both died.  If you yell into the hole in spanish "Give me the cow," water will rush in and push the straight up and out.


Curvaceous roads led me to the coast in Isabela.  I parked at a resort and ran down to the beach.  I was too far.  I doubled back and parked at a campground.  The sun had set and only a little twilight was left.  I jogged down the beach and scaled the craggy landform.  Waves crashed against the side of the rock.  I don't know why I was so determined to find it.  Its just a hole in the ground.  But I was.  I needed to find it and yell into it.  Finally, there it was.  A giant hole open to the ocean.  With no one around me I screamed at it, "¡Da me la vacaaaaa!!"  The waves may not have been strong enough that night to return the cow.  But at that moment, I felt like I was exactly where I needed to be in my life.  No more, no less.

Sloped side of the rocky coastline.  This sign told me I probably shouldn't go up there...  but I did anyway.

Waves struggle to return the cow from El Pozo de Jacinto

I celebrated with dinner at Sonia Rican, a beach front restaurant that was featured on No Reservations.  I claimed a stool at the bar facing the beach and ordered an iconic Puerto Rican dish... Shrimp stuffed mofongo.  I washed my food down with a Medalla while the waves crashed on the shore behind me. Anthony Bourdain was right; food tastes better when you aren't wearing shoes.

My delicious celebratory dinner

It was the perfect end to my trip.  I drove back to El Verde in the dark feeling rejuvenated and ready to take on the final stretch of my time in Puerto Rico.

Mom and Dad Visit Puerto Rico: Part 4

Monday was my last day with my parents and probably my favorite day of the whole weekend.  We read about a nature reserve on the south side of the island called Bahía de Jobos (insert brief uncontrollable laugher ;) )  The bay is part of the National Estuarine Research Reserve System that includes sites all over the United States.  It includes an extensive mangrove forest, and I was so excited to explore them.  We drove around the east coast to get there.  My parents got a taste of the poorly marked, narrow mountain roads that are all too common in Puerto Rico.  After a few wrong turns and back tracking, we finally found the reserve in Aguirre.

There were only a few short trails at the reserve.  Record rainfall had flooded most of the trails last year, and the reserve was in the process of rebuilding them.  Still, the open trails made me feel like a kid in a candy store.  They followed the coastlines to backwater canals, all lined with mangroves.  I geeked our telling my parents about the different adaptations of the various species.  New kayaking trails were also being built around the bay.  I was disappointed that they weren't open yet.  Kayaking though the mangroves would have been a blast!

Red mangroves on a canal in Bahía de Jobos

One of the guides in the visitor center told us to check out the trails on the other side of the bay.  The trails are at a campground that was closed due to budget cuts, but they are still in good condition.  A large part of the trail is a boardwalk that winds though the mangrove swamp.  And the mud flats were loaded with tiny crabs that burrow in the ground.  As we walked past, we could hear their little feet scurry across the leaves back to their holes.  Mangrove ecosystems are so fascinating to me.  They were the inspiration for my senior thesis, and hopefully I'll work in a mangrove swamp someday.

A large stand of Black mangroves

Tiny crabs living in the mangrove roots

Late in the afternoon, we drove back through the central mountains.  We ate dinner at El Verde BBQ at the bottom of the hill to the field station.  Our meal was delicious.  It was a wonderful end to our weekend together.  My parents were leaving Tuesday morning, so they drove me back to the field station and said our goodbyes.  It was so wonderful to show my them the island where I have lived for three months.  I'm so happy that I got to share a few adventures with the people who have always supported my endless wanderlust.

Mom and Dad Visit Puerto Rico: Part 3

After a long day of driving, my parents and I decided to spend Sunday relaxing in Luquillo.  First we grabbed breakfast at a local bakery. I introduced my family to quesitos, a flaky, sticky pastry that I love.  We took our time and wandered down the beach to a calm area inside a barrier reef.  My dad and I snorkeled around in the shallows for a while then swam out closer to the reef.  During my time in Puerto Rico, I've had the pleasure of snorkeling in some incredible sea grass beds and coral reefs.  I have to admit, the reef in Luquillo was a little underwhelming.  The water was more turbid, and the reef was severely bleached.  But my dad seemed to have a lot of fun looking for fish in holes and crevices, so I was happy :)

Early in the afternoon, storm clouds rolled in from the east, and the waves swelled.  When it started to rain, my dad and I swam back to shore.  My mom was still on the beach and I felt bad that she was caught in the rain.  She had her towel wrapped around her head like a babushka.  But she smiled and waved at us, and I had to laugh.

Rain clouds over the ocean

Rainbow following the rainstorm

The rest of the afternoon we bummed around Luquillo.  We ate a late lunch, wandered through a few souvenir shops, then brought ice cream back to the hotel.  The rest of the night was low key.  We listened to the rain and planned our excursion for Monday.  All of the sight-seeing has been fun, but tonight was nice to just hang out and relax.

Mom and Dad Visit Puerto Rico: Part 2

On Saturday, we drove to the west side of the Island to visit the Aricebo Observatory, home to the world's largest satellite receiver dish.  The observatory is in the middle of karst country, eroded limestone formations shaped like haystacks.  This landscape was perfect to build the receiver.  A sinkhole depression was they perfect size, and they didn't need to do any digging.  The large dish reflects signals into another receiver that is suspended above, and the signals travel through fiber optic cables to a lab on the other side of the hill.  One of the main projects is the search for intelligent life elsewhere in outer space, but several other important discoveries have come from the observatory.  I knew my engineer dad would think it was really cool, but we were all impressed.  The dish was was also featured in a James Bond movie.  That's right... its Goldeneye!

Goldeneye!

My mom and me being a little silly

We stopped in Old San Juan on the way back from Arecibo.  It was the frist time I had seen the city in the daylight.  The colonial Spanish architecture is really pretty.  My mom said that's how she imagined streets in Europe.  There are also two old forts on the north coast.  We walked around Castillo de San Cristobal.  The views of the ocean were beautiful.  I was amazed by the size of the fort.  It seemed like you could easily get lost below ground!  After getting a pizza from Pirilos, this great Italian place, we walked to Castillo San Felipe del Morro.  It was a breezy evening, and the park was filled with kids flying kites. We watched the sun set behind the fort.  The coast of Old San Juan was stunning at night.  It was a great end to the day.

Old San Juan as seen from San Crisobal

El Morro soon after sunset

Old San Juan at dusk

Mom and Dad Visit Puerto Rico: Part 1

After along day of traveling from Chicago, my parents finally made it to Puerto Rico.  Thursday evening, they navigated their way from San Juan to El Verde.  I gave them a quick tour of their station before leaving for Luquillo.  It was a beautiful night to have dinner on the patio at Boardriders, and our hotel was just a couple blocks away.  The Luquillo Sunrise Inn is an adorable bed and breakfast.  Each room has a balcony facing the Atlantic Ocean.  At night we left balcony door cracked open and could hear the waves crash on the beach.

The view from the hotel room

Friday morning I was surprised to sleep in!  For as many family vacations as I can remember, my dad wanted us awake at the crack of dawn.  Now he was the one dragging his heels!  After breakfast we explored the touristy part of El Yunque.  Several vistas and short trails dot an eight-kilometer road that winds up a mountain.  Past waterfalls and overlooks, we found ourselves in the cloud forest.  At the highest elevations, the mountain is almost constantly topped with clouds.  We walked through a thick mist to a lookout tower.  At the top, the clouds broke just long enough to take a picture of the coast before they encompassed us again.  The gray mist in the mountains made me feel like I was on the edge of the world.

My dad and me at Coco Falls

On the Mt. Britton Tower in the cloud forest

After a day of hiking, we relaxed at the hotel for a bit before our nighttime adventure in Fajardo; a kayak tour of the bioluminescent bay.  The bay has perfect conditions to support tiny aquatic creatures called dinoflagellets. When disturbed, these microorganisms emit a blue-green light, similar to the way fireflies glow.  Only a handful of these bays exist worldwide, and three of them are found in Puerto Rico.

The tour started at the harbor in Fajardo.  The biologists guided us across the harbor and into a mangrove canal.  Under the mangrove canopy was pitch black.  Barely any moonlight made its way through the leaves, and I could only see the lights on my parents’ kayak ahead of me.  I glanced down at my paddles as I moved them through the water.  Faintly, I began to see trails of light as paddled.  The trails became brighter and brighter the closer we got to the bay.  We emerged from the canal into the calm lagoon where the biologists talked more about the dinoflagellets. Then we got to paddle around the bay on our own.  I couldn’t believe how bright the bay was as we moved through the water.  Its subtle beauty amazed me.

Our group paddled back to the harbor through the mangrove canal.  When we pulled off to the side and let another tour group pass, we could see the tiny creatures spark as they bumped into the mangrove roots.  It reminded me of shooting starts or fireworks.  Back at the harbor, my parents and I shared a chicken pincho (read: tasty grilled meat on a stick) as a snack after our adventure. Then it was back to Luquillo for the night.  Not a bad start to our adventures at all!

Festival del Tinglar

On Saturday, the town square in Luquillo hosted Festival del Tinglar.  It's a celebration of the sea turtles that nest in the beaches along the northeastern shore this time of year.  Like the other festivals, this one was flooded with artisans.  I bought a stained wood burning of a coqui that will look great in my next living room (where ever that may be).  Outside of the artisans and pincho stands, there were several tents with information about conservation efforts in the Northeast Ecological Corridor.  Unfortunately, I didn't spend much time in the tents since my Spanish is still pretty rusty.  But they did a nice job of having a variety of interactive displays and activities for kids to learn about the animals in their own backyards.  Community support is so important to achieving conservation goals.  Outreach programs like this one help build awareness within the community, encouraging them to feel a deeper connection to their environment.

We spent a few hours at the festival and then had a couple beers at Boardriders.  All day different bands played on a stage at the festival, and we were sticking around to see the headliner, Cultura Profetica, a Puerto Rican reggae band.  To be honest, I didn't really feel like staying for the show.  I was tired and it was getting cold, windy, and threatened to rain.  But I didn't really have an option.  I was at the mercy of our driver and the rest of the group.

No one really knew when the band was supposed to take the stage.  In true island fashion, everyone had a different answer.  We wandered back to the town center as they finally started their sounds check.  That was when the shit hit the fan.  The winds picked up and crazy gusts started blowing the rain sideways.  What was once a sea of people quickly became huddled masses as people took refuge under tents and umbrellas.  Crew members covered the giant amplifiers with plastic bags, and I wondered if they would have to cancel the show.  I was just thankful that I had at least brought my rain jacket.  Finally, the rain calmed down and the show started.  Although I didn't understand any of the Spanish lyrics, I actually really enjoyed show.  I was glad that we stayed, soaking jeans and all.

On an Island in the Sun

For the last two weeks, we planned on taking a big group trip to Culebra, one of the two smaller islands off the east coast of the main island.  The wan was rented.  Our bags were packed.  But Friday morning, just hours before we planned on leaving, we sat in the conference room debating if the trip would be worth it.  Relentless rains had barely let up all week.  Normally the coasts are much clearer than the mountain, but it had been raining heavily at the bottom of the hill too.  The weather service had forecast a fifty-percent chance of scattered showers in Culebra.  Some people were concerned about camping in the rain, but I was looking forward to this trip so much that I was willing to brave a little rain.  Thankfully we decided to take our chances.

Seth drove us to the ferry in Fajardo, where cloudy skies still spit at the earth.  We bought tickets and waited to board the ferry.  Before anyone embarked at all, the ferry pulled away from the dock!  The ferry was sitting too high in the water for cars to drive up the ramp, so it left to top of the fuel tanks and hopefully weigh it down.  With rain still plaguing the coast, we finally boarded.  Some of us stayed on the top deck to watch the cars load via the dangerously steep and slippery ramp.  It was impressively entertaining.

Surprisingly, the little Corolla had no problem with the ramp, unlike the black Toyota near the bottom which took three attempts and at one point we were pretty sure it was going to roll its self.

Just before leaving port, the sun broke through the clouds.  I was relieved to see a break in the weather. An hour later, we approached the dock in Culebra. The low angle of the sun reflected off the few clouds left in the sky, casting a gorgeous array of color over a sailboat-dotted bay.

Welcome to Culebra!

We found a shuttle van near the port to drive us and all of our gear to the campground on Playa Flamenco.  We picked a campsite and got our tents set up just before the sun dipped below the horizon.  The clouds had cleared, and we took a walk along the shoreline under a nearly full moon.  In the moonlight, the crescent shaped beach was one the the most tranquil places that I have ever been.  The sand felt soft under my bare feet.  The waves lapped gently at the shore.  Chris, Rachel, Sheffin, and I sat on the beach a little while longer after everyone else went to bed.  We barely spoke to each other.  Words seem unnecessary.  Vast expanses of water always have a way of hypnotizing me.

I slept surprisingly well that night.  Unlike our last camping trip, I didn't freeze!  The temperature was delightful.  In the daylight, I finally saw how picture perfect Playa Flamenco is.  A white sand beach adorned with palm trees hugs the cerulean blue bay.  I'm not surprised that it ranks among the top beaches in the world.  It was perfect for a morning swim and lounging in the sun.

My morning walk on Playa Flamenco

After a quick lunch, we walked over a mine field to Carlos Rosario beach.  That's right.  Culebra was formerly an uninhabited island used by the Navy for target practice.  A few tanks still stand on Playa Flamenco where they practiced amphibious landings including training for the invasion of Iwo Jima.  The trail to beach is guarded by a sign warning of potentially unexploded munitions in the area.  I decided not to stray too far from the path.

Festive paint job on one of the tanks at Playa Flamenco

Sheffin in the Danger Zone

Playa Carlos Rosario is gorgeous, and a lot less crowded than Playa Flamenco.  outside of a couple families, we were the only ones there.  Some of us snorkeled through the breathtaking reef that ran along the coast.  It's a much different habitat than the sea grasses in Guanica.  Fan, elkhorn, and brain corals create a forest on craggy offshore rocks with ample hiding places for colorful tropical fishes.  Andy and I snorkeled around the point of the bay to a deeper part of the reef.  I caught a glimpse of of something huge out the corner of my eye.  It was a sea turtle!  We watched it glide effortlessly through the water; then we headed back towards the beach.  What we didn't realize was how strongly the current flowed around the point.  Fighting the current on the way back exhausted both of us, but just finding the sea turtle was well worth the swim.

Playa Carlos Rosario

We packed our campsite late in the afternoon before catching a shuttle back to the ferry. Sheffin and I had unofficially declared this weekend "MicSheffles Fest" in honor of our upcoming birthdays.  While we waited for the shuttle we had a couple of rum drinks to celebrate.  With an icy beverage in my hand, I finally felt like I was on a true tropical adventure.  We returned to Fajardo after a pretty uneventful ferry ride.  I don't know if I'll have a chance to go back before I leave, but visiting Culebra again in itself would be worth the return trip to Puerto Rico.  One night was far from enough.  I'm so glad we made the trip happen and can't believe we almost cancelled it.  All over a little rain that never came.

Raging River

Yesterday, Silvia and I spent the morning in the field with the contingency of finishing data entry inside if the rain interfered with seedling work.  It started to pour around lunchtime, so we started our hike out of the grid.  It wasn't the most severe rain we've experienced. But the Sonadora said otherwise.  As we got close to the river, we could see it raging violently over the rocks.  I checked the stream gage at the bridge.  Normally it is at 3.4 feet.  Now, in just a few hours it had risen to 6.5 feet!  It looked so spectacular that I had to hike back with my camera.  Here are the before and after pictures:

Normal Stream flow - January 26, 2012

View from the bridge - March 28, 2012

In the forest, it didn't seem like very much rain, but it must have been falling more heavily higher up the mountain.  It felt very surreal to stand on the bridge as the water raced below me.  I cross that bridge every day, but this time I felt so much smaller.  Like I could be swept away any minute.  Sometimes, there is nothing so humbling as nature in full force.

Oh, I'll give you a "Cheeseburger in Paradise"....

Nestled in the Luquillo kioskos is a restaurant.  One among many.  But if you ever find yourself in Puerto Rico, it is the only one you need to know.  Its a little bar and grill.  No doors or walls on the front or back; you can easily see the crashing waves of the Atlantic ocean.  The tables have empty six-packs as condiment caddies, and there are an abundance of Sharpies to draw on nearly any open surface.  It's casual and welcoming with just a hit of grime.  This is el Jefe Burger Shack.

Tonight a few of us escaped to Luquillo for dinner.  I've been told about the magic of el Jefe, and this was my first encounter.  I loved the atmosphere immediately, but would my burger live up to expectations?  Our waitress took our drink orders.  My mojito was perfect.  Perfect, I tell you!  Minty, limey, slightly sweet, intoxicatingly perfect.  And the beers that the others ordered came in their own cozy little ice pails.

In case you were wondering, this is what a Mojito should look like.

Aaron with his ice cold Coors Light like a good Colorado boy 

Now we placed our orders.  I ordered a 1/3 pound burger, cheddar cheese, lettuce, tomato, avocado, dill pickle, mayo.  Then came the clincher... the test of character...  I asked for it medium rare.  And she said, "Sure."  No hesitation.  No, "We're not really supposed to, but we'll do our best." No questions asked.  Yes.  And I substituted the fries for a side of nachos.  I've seen jaws drop and eyes widen just at the mention of these nachos.  Of course I had to experience them for myself.

And then we waited. And waited.  And waited.  And, my friend, you too will wait when you eat at el Jefe.  But let me tell you this, your wait will not be in vain.  The burger that was set before me was a thing of beauty.  But like any good burger, it was the first bite that got me hooked.  The toasted bun, the perfect balance of toppings, and just as I had requested... a pink medium rare center. Heavenly.

And then there are the nachos.... OOHHHHHH! the nachos.  All other nachos should bow down or cower in shame.  Crispy corn chips adorned with pico de gallo, avocado, and jalepeños.  But the cheese sauce, el Jefe cheese sauce made in house... I've tasted few things so delicious as this.  It took me a while, but I finally pinpointed what I think must the secret ingredient: 100% pure distilled euphoria.  When Jesus throws a party, these are the nachos he serves to his disciples.  All I want is to be buried under a pile of el Jefe nachos so I can eat my way out.  Yes, they are THAT good.

el Jefe Burger and Nachos of GLORY

Two months left on this island... you bet your sweet ass I'll eat at el Jefe again.

Saturday Mornings

I've come to enjoy spending quiet Saturday mornings at El Verde.  It gives me time to relax and focus on my thoughts.  Often they are calm reflections about my surroundings.  This morning was no exception.  A few of us shared breakfast on the porch outside the kitchen.  On this sunny day, we pondered how to fill the whole weekend ahead of us.

Just then, the light around us began to dim as clouds rolled over the mountains.  The sky became much too dark for 11 am.  Something was coming... We listened to a few songs on my computer, sharing new music with each other.  The wind picked up and swirled around the porch.  Something was close...  It looked as if today might be a good day to catch up on all of those movies we have been planning to watch.  

Finally the sky opened and released an intense morning shower.  Then it was over almost as soon as it began.  The birds started singing again, but judging by the look of the sky that won't be the last of today's precipitation.  It might be a good day for movies, but maybe it's also a good day to sit under the porch awning with a cup of tea watching the rain.

The view from the porch

Day Trip to Guanica

The best part about having friends all over the world its that I always have somewhere new to visit.  A few weeks ago, Greg moved to a new volunteer project after finishing his position at El Verde.  Now he lives close to Guanica, a city on the southern Caribbean coast of Puerto Rico.  On Sunday, Sheffin, Courtenay, Chris, Rachel and I rented a van and met Greg and his new group for a day at the beach.  

Sunday morning we left the station, stopped at Walgreens to grab some road snacks, then hit the highway.  After not getting behind a steering wheel for about two months, it felt amazing to drive that van.  We headed south through the mountains.  The last time we left on a road trip, it was already dark outside.  This morning the sun shined without a cloud in the sky, and we could see the central mountains around us.  As we made our way south, the landscape transitioned from rainforest to dry forest.  I'm always in awe how even across short distances, ecosystems can change so quickly.

We made it to Guayanilla in a little more than two hours and met Greg at his house.  He hopped in our van and we followed the whale crew to the beach in Guanica.  The beach here is a lot different than the one in Luquillo on the north side.  It was stunning to see both palm trees and cacti on the same beach.  The water was clear and beautiful, just how I remember the Caribbean from my trip to Belize.  Greg and I brought our snorkel gear and explored the sea grass beds close to shore.  When the waves rolled though the grasses, the blades undulated like they were blowing in the wind.  It felt so tranquil and almost hypnotic.

Even though the habitat seems so simple, just blades of grass in the sand, it teemed with a variety of tangs, wrasses, parrot fish, urchins, anemones, and a couple of sea stars.  Snorkeling confirmed that I belong in tropical coastal ecology.  I love the transition from mangrove to sea grass to coral reef, three vastly different ecosystems that are so integral to each other.  With each work experience, I try to inch my way closer.  Someday I'll get there.

It was late in the afternoon and we were getting ready to leave... right when the rain clouds started rolling in.  Perfect timing!  Greg's new boss was nice enough to host us at their house for dinner.  We all stopped at the store and picked up burgers to throw on the grill.  We ended up hanging out at the house a lot longer than we expected.  I think Greg was happy they didn't have to get back to work as early as the boss let on, and it was fun to meet some new people and see how different field operations work.

Finally, it was time to head back home.  We said our goodbyes to Greg and set out towards El Verde.  I think we all needed this trip.  Even though it was just for the day, its always recharging to get away from station life for a bit.  And, of course, it was great to see Greg again.  We barely spoke on the way back to the station, but we were all in agreement about our trip.  Chris summed it up best: It was a day of unadulterated excellence.

Chris, Sheff, me, and Greg on a gorgeous day in Guanica

Boardriders

Getting to travel places on the island has taken some creativity.  Initially the station had a 12 passenger van and a Jeep Cherokee owned by the University.  Seth is the only grad student who is authorized to drive the vehicles for "official" business, which grocery shopping loosely fell under.  Only a couple weeks after I got here, both cars suffered major mechanical issues, and neither have been repaired yet (hello "island time").

In many ways this has been a blessing.  We've had a rental van every weekend since, and Seth is able to drive us to places other than just the grocery store.  Last week we went to the electronic music fest, but we can even just go out for drinks which we couldn't do before.  This weekend we had a 15 passenger Ford van instead of a mini van.  Friday night we were all able to pile in together and drive to a bar in Luquillo called Boardriders.  Its a chill place with a large patio in front that looks over the Atlantic Ocean.  Attached is a stand that rents surfboards and offers lessons that I would love to take advantage of someday.

I can't stress enough how great it was to unwind and have a few beers with the crew outside of the station.  It's something I really miss doing with my friends back home.  Hopefully, we'll get to hang out near the coast for drinks more often.  It's the simple things that make all the difference.

Let's Bungle in the Jungle!

When I think about the rainforest, typically I conjure images of lush vegetation, singing birds, isolation from civilization.  Rarely if ever do pulsing bass and and light shows come to mind.  But that's exactly what we found last Saturday.  Alejandro called Aaron in the afternoon and asked if anyone else was interested in heading to an Electronic music fest in Rio Grande. Of course I told him to count me in.

A group of us left the station around 10 pm.  Now, when I heard Rio Grande, I imagined it would be somewhere in town.  But at the end of the station's driveway, we turned left and drove up the hill instead of down.  Where are we going?!  We turned down another road that I have run past a dozen times.  After winding a little further through he mountains, we saw a line of cars waiting to turn off the road.  We followed them and were directed to the parking area.  It was up a steep hill in a muddy clearing.

Since both of the station vehicles have been in for repairs, Seth was able to drive us in the rental van.  However, the little Kia mini van wasn't exactly equipped to handle off-road conditions.  It got stuck at least twice while trying to find an open space to park.  At one point we briefly considered lifting and pivoting the back end of a crookedly parked Honda del Sol to make space.  But another spot eventually opened up.  It took a few multipoint turns and a lot of pushing to finally get the van parked in that disaster of a lot.

Ruts in the mud left by our van.

The festival was actually at the Rio Grande Plantation, a resort in the middle of the rainforest.  There were three separate stages with different DJs performing through the night.  We wandered between the three and danced until well after 2 am, but the show was scheduled until 6 am!  I guess that's the definition of "all night rager." After a little more tire spinning and mud flinging, we pointed the van towards home.  We could still hear the music as we drove away.  Even the coquis seemed to chirp in rhythm to dupstep wafting through the tabonuncos.  You really never know what you'll find in the jungle!

Alejandro and Aaron stroll through the Bass Jungle

Flash Flood!

Weather in the rainforest is never predictable.  After a few days of brief morning rain showers, I thought we were in for another delightful week.  Thursday started out the same, but it didn't stop.  We found a nice spot near the trail to each lunch, and the rain fell harder.  Soon it was pouring even harder than the first week.  Within a half an hour, what was once a path was now a stream.  At first, Courtenay was gung-ho about finishing our field checks for the day. But after a flash of lightening, we decided we better get the hell out of there!  The rain started to limit our visibility, and the water on the path was up to my calfs in places.  I guess somedays you walk into the grid, some days you swim out...

Josie had her camera in the field that day and shared some of her pictures with me: 

Walking back in the rain (Photo Credit: Jocelyn Holt)

Smart teams bring an umbrella to preserve the data! (Photo Credit: Jocelyn Holt)

From the bridge over the Sonadora.  The stream gage rose about a foot just in the morning!
( Photo Credit: Jocelyn Holt)

The World's Best 10k

Last November, I had set a goal for myself to run a 10k before I left for Puerto Rico.  I kept up with a pretty regular running schedule, but staying motivated in the Midwest during winter can be difficult.  I fell shy of my goal and decided to keep running close to El Verde once I got here.  Soon I found out that a few other crew members including my boss signed up for "The World's Best10k" in San Juan at the end of February.  I though, "Why not? I have nothing to lose." I had about a month to keep training.

Running in the Central Mountains of Puerto Rico is quite a transition from running in the flat lands of northern Indiana.  The first 1.5 miles outside the field station is the steepest part of the road and takes me about twenty minutes to run.  If I thought running in 20 degree weather was tough, mentally prepping myself to run up that hill was a challenge.  I only ran about twice a week, but hiking in and out of Grid everyday was added conditioning in itself!  Luckily, the race course would be on flat land near the coast.

After a month of anticipation, race weekend finally came.  On Saturday, Jose, Alejandro, Aaron, and I went to San Juan for check-in, and Greg came along for the ride. We picked up our race packets including wristbands for the fitness festival in the stadium.  Greg was able to walk past the lax security with us, and we all stocked up on free Advil packets, oatmeal cookies, Advil packets, energy drink samples, and a few more Advil packets for good measure.

Sunday was race day.  We left for San Juan around noon and met my boss Chris and his family at the UPR campus before heading to the course.  Greg and Courtenay came with us to fill out cheering section with Chris's wife and little boy.  From campus we took the subway to the race grounds.  The cars were packed with other runners, and my excitement began to build.  Nearly 12,000 runner registered for the race including a group of Kenyans.  What have I gotten myself into?!

Our group made it to the race grounds and warmed up at a near-by track.  I ran a few laps and started to psych myself up.  But the nerves crept up too.  Was I ready for this? Did I train enough? I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind.  Even though I had only run the full distance a couple of times while training, I was only racing myself.  Soon we parted from our cheering squad and headed to the starting line.  We were packed in a sea of runners, and still had an hour before the start!  My heart was pounding, but at least my brain was calm.  Just another run.

Runners making their way to the starting line (Photo Credit: Greg Larsen)

The starting horn sounded, and pushed Play on my iPod. This is it!!  I let the guys take off ahead of me and found my rhythm.  The course started heading east (in the westbound lanes) of the highway, the bridge over a bay, around a cloverleaf at the 3k, back across the bridge and down the highway in the eastbound lanes, around another cloverleaf at the 8k and to the finish line for almost a full loop.  I hit the 1k mark and stayed my pace as I ran across the long bridge, making sure to take in the view of the ocean.  The 2k mark was also the 4k mark for the return lanes. I had only reached this point when the Kenyans already ran past me.  I couldn't believe how fast they are!

The bridge over the San Jose Lagoon (www.wb10k.com)

When I reached the 3k mark and the first checkpoint at the cloverleaf, I glanced at the clock.  I set a goal to finish under 1:15:24 (registration asked for a seed time through seconds... I'm 24... so I picked 24 seconds :) ). The clock only read 20 minutes.  I was ahead of my time, but kept my pace.  I felt good.  Around the cloverleaf and back over the bridge.  I passed the 4k and approached the 5k marker.  On my playlist I had positioned "The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World at 45 minutes... or halfway to my goal time. When I finished the first 5k, I still hadn't heard my song.  I was still ahead.

The song played near the 6k mark which was opposite the finish line.  I heard the crowd cheer as the fastest runners were already finishing, and I felt re-energized.  But somewhere between 7k and 8k, I hit my wall.  "I don't want to do this anymore," I thought to myself.  But I was so close to finishing.  I pushed my mind to keep my body strong.  At 8k I crossed the second check point just under an hour and turned for the final stretch.  That last 2k was the longest part of the entire race.  My body began screaming at me.  Everything from my fingertips to my toes ached.  9k... only 1k to go... I could see the finish line in the distance.  If there was a time to burn the last traces of fuel, it was now.  My legs felt like they might fall off, but I kept turing my wheels.  I closed in and realized I was still under 1:15.  How fast could I finish?!  I sprinted as fast as I could until I crossed the line.  Official finish time: 1:11:16.  Well under my goal!

I walked through the finishers gauntlet to get my medal, Gatorade, oatmeal cookies, and of course more Advil packets then tried to find the rest of the group.  Greg saw me first.  We waited for Jose and met up with Aaron and Alejandro.  But Chris was nowhere to be found.  And he was only a little behind Aaron the whole race.  Eventually we found him in the medical tent.  While pushing himself to a level of bad-ass that only Chris Nytch can achieve, he passed out somewhere near the 9k mark.  In true Chris fashion, he still had a smile on his face.  We love you, Nytch man!

To cap of an incredible day, the group of us stopped in Old San Juan for pizza and beers.  I was exhausted, but the pizza was delicious, and the beer? Absolutely heavenly.  It was a great way to wind down.  Sharing the run with some of my El Verde crew was amazing.  You guys are the best.  And I'm so appreciative of Greg and Courtenay for coming to support us.  It meant the world to me.

I finally understand the meaning of "runner's high".  An intense feeling of accomplishment washed over me when I crossed the finish line.  I never though I would complete a 10k.  But then again, when I first started running, a 5k seemed like a dream too.  Who knows... maybe the Chicago marathon is in my future after all ;)

The El Verde Crew: Jose, Alejandro, Aaron, me, and Courtenay with Don Abuelo from Rio Piedras
(Photo Credit: Greg Larsen)

Chinchorros, Vejigantes, and Mystery Machines.

Since I arrived in Puerto Rico, I have been anxious to explore more of the Island outside of El Verde.  But the lack of transportation has hindered my adventuring.  Aside from a few weekend trips to the grocery store and one afternoon at the beach, no opportunity to travel had presented itself.  I was beginning to feel cabin fever akin to Jack Torrance in "The Shining".  Just when I though I might be driven to a murderous rampage, everything fell into place, and most of our crew left for a long Presidents' Day weekend trip.

Supposedly, there is a festival somewhere on the island almost every weekend.  We found two: one in Maricao and one in Ponce.  First we visited the Maricao Coffee harvest festival.  Many growers had stands with samples of their brews.  I tried a couple, but not being a coffee drinker, the appeal was lost on me.  I did enjoy exploring the numerous artisans.  Many of them practiced their crafts right behind their booths.  I found one woman selling handmade glass pendant jewelry.  She had a pile of beach glass, and I picked my own stone for her to make me a custom necklace in a matter of minutes.  Its nice to see real artisans at the festival in stead of all of the mass-produced made-in-China trinkets that seem to be everywhere.

Maricao Coffee festival (My cameral battery died :(  Photo Credit: Andy Brandstetter)

Afterwards, we found a local bar to grab a couple drinks.  Maricao is a small town, and at first the bar looked a bit shady with only a few people inside.  But we soon found out that they were very welcoming people.  We danced and played pool for a while.  Then my friend Sheffin and I sat at the bar and chatted with the bartenders.  One of them spoke English and translated for the other.  Even through the language barrier, we managed to make a connection.  The more we talked, the more free drinks they fed us.  When we tried to tip them, they were adamant that we keep out money.  Alejandro told us these small mom-and-pop type bars are called "chinchorros".

The Carnaval de Ponce was a change from Maricao.  Coinciding with Mardi Gras, Carnaval is celebrated the week before Ash Wednesday.  Teenagers dress as "vejigantes" in colorful frilled costumes with horned papermache masks representing the devil.  On Sunday, we made it to Ponce in time for the main parade. The theme of Carnaval is to ward off evil, but it seems to me that it is a celebration of city pride.  Many organizations participate in the parade by building floats or marching in costumes.  The streets were absolutely packed.

Parade at Ponce (Photo Credit: Andy Brandstetter)

Throughout the weekend, we camped out at night.  I never thought I would be so cold on a Caribbean island.  All I had was the thin blanket from my bed which just did not cut the mustard.  No matter how much I tried to cocoon myself, I couldn't warm up.  All of that cool damp mountain air chills you to the bone.  At one point, three of us squeezed together like sardines to try sharing heat.  In Maricao, we stayed on the baseball field in the festival grounds.  We woke up to find ourselves in the middle of a VW Westfalia village. I've never seen so many Westies in one place.  One was even painted like the Mystery Machine!

Westfalia Village! (Photo Credit: Andy Brandstetter)

Two of the nights, Alejandro's parents graciously let us camp on their property in Ponce.  They have a gorgeous piece of land dotted with bananas, starfruit, and citrus trees.  A river runs through the back of the property with a few large rocks that were perfect for relaxing in the morning.  In the morning, we all had breakfast together in the kitchen.  His parent visited with us for a while, and we played with Ale's little siblings Armando and Alisa who are a riot.

Monday morning, we thanked the Miros for their hospitality and started our trek back to the station.  Driving along the southern coast was gorgeous, but after a long weekend, I was beat.  I was so glad to get out of the station, but also ready to sleep in a warm bed.  This weekend was just what I needed: adventure with a little bit of chaos peppered in for good measure.  And it was nice to bond with my station mates outside of El Verde.  I'm excited for our next adventure, whenever and where ever that may be.

If a tree falls on your plot, do you still census it?

I have now survived two weeks of field work in El Yunque. The first two days, we just walked the trail and started learning to identify the seedling species.  Each of was given a plant ID packet to write down characteristics as we came across each plant.  I also sketched examples in my guide.  For the first dozen or so plants, I felt I had a good grasp so far.  But this was just the tip of the iceberg.  Soon it seemed like I was writing the same traits over and over, and my drawings started to look identical.  In two days we learned over fifty tree, liana, and fern species.  My crew mates and I tried to practice identifying examples back at the station, but how the hell was I going to keep them all straight?!

After our plant ID crash course, we were thrown into "the grid."  The grid is a 320x500 meter experimental plot divided into 400 20x20 meter quads.  Within the grid are more than 200 1x2 meter seedling plots.  Our goal is to count, ID, and measure all seedlings in the plots.  It's tedious work that often requires sitting in one spot staring at the ground for long periods of time, but hard to complain about when the surroundings are so breathtaking.

We stumbled through the first plot together as a group, then split into smaller teams.  My partner, Courtenay, and I quickly realized the true meaning of "learning by doing."  Our first couple of plots went well, and we made our way through the column.  But we couldn't find our third plot.  We knew we were in the right location, our plot should be right over there....where that giant tree has fallen. Sure enough we found the plot post buried under branches.  Of course, it still needed to be censused, but we found only one seedling near the plot line.

A seedling plot covered in debris. Only the blue top of the corner post is visible near the center  of this photo.

The rest of the week was plagued with constant rain showers.  Now, I expected frequent precipitation. (I am working in a RAINforest after all!) But this "dry season" has been uncharacteristically wet.  Courtenay and I were in the middle of one plot when it started raining. HARD. The sound of the rain was so deafening that we had to shout to hear each other.  And unlike most other showers, this one didn't let up.  For three hours, we sat trudging through our plot in the most intense downpour.  We were both completely soaked.  I don't think I've ever felt so saturated to my core.  Even through my rain gear!

This past week the weather was much kinder to us with only short showers and two rain-free days at the end of the week.  Courtenay and I are finding a rhythm, plant IDing is starting to get easier.  And the sunny days have allowed me to enjoy my surroundings even more.  Don't expect to see me back in Indiana any time soon.