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.