Welcome
to the Jungle
By Tim Bie
November 2002 - Paddler magazine
Bob
Pickett really wanted to see a boa constrictor. Actually Bob
really wanted to touch a boa constrictor. Well actually, Bob
really wanted to find a boa constrictor; wrap it around his
neck like a Hawaiian lei, and get a photo taken to show the
boys back home. Lucky for Bob, when your four days deep into
the Belizean jungle, finding a willing boa is not only possible,
but likely. And by then, wrapping it a round your neck doesn't
even seem that weird.
Pickett
was one of nine people who joined me last March on the second
commercial decent of southern Belize's Upper Swasey River,
which drops east from the Maya Mountains and empties into
the Caribbean Sea near the resort community of Placencia.
The week long trip is one of seven offered by Island Expeditions,
a Vancouver, Canada-based outfitter that, despite its name,
has made great strides in helping Belize's many ecotourists
look inland for their adventures. While the sun and scuba
of the outer reef will forever be the favorite for most Belize
travelers, it is the raw interior, the jungles and jaguars
and mystery of the rainforest experience that define this
Central American country. The Sale Si Puede (sal-eh see pweh-day)
Jungle expedition involves two days of hiking to reach the
river, followed by a three-and-a-half-day Class II-III paddling
descent. The trip isn't too easy and it isn't too hard- it's
exactly what adventure travel should be.
I
arrived in Belize a day later than the rest of the group,
thus missing the warm up hike to a cave outside of Belize
City known as "The Burial Vault." Having visited the cave
before, however, I can attest to it being aptly named and
well worth the hike. (Though a little freaky what with the
skeletons and all.) On the second day, we headed south from
Dangriga toward a small village called Maya Center, which
sits on the edge of 102,000- acre Cockscomb Jaguar Reserve-
the first and only jaguar reserve in the world. There, we
listened to a local biologist eloquently describe the virtues
of Felis Onca, as well as the history of the park and it's
Mayan villagers.
Jaguar
numbers in the Cockscomb Basin were once pushed to extinction,
but have rebounded to the point that some people-hunters in
particular- are asking if the recovery efforts have gone too
far. Regardless, the reserve is now home to the largest concentration
of Jaguars north of the Amazon Basin. And come morning, we'd
be hiking among them.
The
trail into the Sale Si Puede camp (translation: "leave if
you can") runs through Belize's version of a national forest,
so anybody could hike here if they wished. But few do, mostly
because they'd have to find the trailhead. Plus there's that
pesky Jaguar thing. Porters had already hauled our two person
inflatable kayaks and most of the heavy gear into the river,
so we all carried light packs consisting mostly of our personal
belongings. Our head guide was Bill Sirota, formerly part
owner of Island Adventures, who proved to be an excellent
paddler, cook, and storyteller. Two Belizean guides, Greg
and Pedro Sho, completed the party hiking in shorts and black
rubber boots like they were off to dig a trench in somebody's
back yard.
A
two day hike though the Central American jungle is a unique
and fulfilling experience all by it's self, but it's also
a rather extraordinary way to meet your fellow travelers.
Bob it turns out, was not just a boa fan, but also fancied
himself something of a birder. As were several other members
of the group. As were Jane, His traveling partner. And we're
not talking about casual birding here. I thought I knew birders
after years of rowing them downstream in Wyoming, but I now
realize that those people were B-league birders at best. Belizean
birders were a whole different breed. We're talking about
checklists and reference books. And not just for the birds.
They brought snake books and bug books and books on Belize
botany. They would ask about every single insect and plant
and piece of poop they came across, examining a piece of animal
scat like there was a lottery ticket hidden inside. I was
in awe. And amazingly, I got sucked into it. I thought I was
just there looking for a paddling trip but suddenly, I cared
whether that was a scarlet macaw that flew by. Before I knew
it, I was asking our guides questions myself. And they answered
every one of them- honestly, I believe- long after I'd have
been lying through my teeth.
Peter
Rutherford and Gerry Lauro were also on the trip- two middle-aged
guys from New Jersey who each had teenage daughters back home.
"Of course, you know what having teen daughters at home means,"
Gerry said laughing. " It means that we never know anything."
Which, it turns out, is just slightly more than either of
them knew about paddling.
The
only other commercial trip into the Sale Si Puede had occurred
the previous January and it took considerably longer for the
group to reach the river. Hurricane Mitch had destroyed much
of the existing trail and precious time was spent clearing
away fallen trees or hacking a way around what had fallen.
Watching Greg and Pedro clear away the occasional patch of
jungle growth was, impressive taking as much time with their
machetes as it would have taken four guys with axes and chainsaws.
By the time we reached the river we were ready for a swim,
aided by the Tarzan- type vine that dangled down to the water.
We
spent most of our day pulling our boats up stream, staring
up the face of 3,675-foot Victoria Peak- the highest in Belize.
It was tough going at times, but the payoff was worth the
effort, a perfect camp at the junction of two streams. While
the others went for a hike, Pedro and I decided to go fishing.
This, of course, turned into a competition. (Despite cultural
differences, we were both, after all, guys.) We were going
for two types of fish-muchaca, an aggressive feeder shaped
like a trout; and tuba, a sort of bluegill-looking thing,
only with fangs. So off we went, me with $1,000 fly fishing
outfit, Pedro with string and a piece of cucumber. And of
course he out fished me. and he wasn't quiet about it either.
I mean, I didn't really know Pedro yet but after he had me
down 2-0, everyone from Honduras to the Yucatan Peninsula
could've heard him. "HOW YOU DOING TOM? YOU GET A FISH YET?
TOM?!! I GOT TWO -YOU SEE!?", he'd say holding them up from
the back of his boat. I couldn't believe it. I was getting
my ass handed to me by a guy fishing with a cucumber. Luckily
I had a strong second half, regained some pummeled pride,
and together we caught enough that Bill was able to make the
whole camp some fish stew.
Our
descent began the following morning-two to a boat-and continued
for three days, weaving down small rapids and portaging around
anything questionable. There was nothing in the Class IV category,
but there was more consistent Class IIs and IIIs than I was
expecting. A few people wrapped boats, including Peter (hourly),
as well as (OK, full disclosure) yours truly and Sarah, my
paddling partner. Luckily, with 70-degree water, much of it
less than waist deep, you simply hopped out and fixed the
problem. It was about as enjoyable a paddle as you could ask
for considering the groups skill level-in -other words, enough
to keep you interested, but rarely enough to frighten you.
Improved
campsites don't really exist along the river, which meant
that Greg and Pedro had to create them as we went along- again,
displaying impressive woodsmanship. We stopped to scout rapids
and eat lunch along shoulders. You know, "Picture for the
boys back home."
Island
Expeditions has five dates planned for the Sale Si Puede trip
this winter; Jan. 11, Feb. 8, March 3, March 29, and April
14. Info (800) 667-1630, www.Islandxpeditions.com.
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