Sunday, the 30th of January we headed to El Yunque Rainforest, but it was raining a lot, so we didn’t get to go on the hike we wanted to because we wanted to hike a trail that boasted a wonderful view, and the whole peak was veiled in a thick grey cloud, but we did hike the La Mina/Big Tree Trail (which is pretty much paved the whole way). The La Mina Falls trail was closed for construction, but we barreled past the orange tape barrier determined to hike somewhere to find the only maintenance/construction being done was to pour some more concrete on the trail. It was beautiful, and the whole time we were alongside a small creek that ran down huge, smoothed out boulders creating a series of tiny waterfalls that would swell with sound when the rain fell harder. When we arrived at La Mina Falls, a huge Waterfall lay before us with a huge bridge across it for viewing. Lots of kids and families were swimming in the pool just below the falls, and tons of tourists were there. I think they thought we worked for the Park since we were dressed in field clothes and hiking boots. We continued past the falls to the other half of the trail; Big Tree Trail. The Big Tree Trail to La Mina Falls was lined with tourists of all ages, and sizes; some were wearing fine Italian leather sandals, some had clear ponchos provided by their hotels and I even saw one woman warily wobbling down the wet and treacherous concrete donning a pair of heels! I think we maybe hiked about 2.5 miles both ways, but some of the tourists seemed out of breath and taken back by the “strenuous” activity. We rushed past a throng of sun-burned guys with beer guts, one who adamantly announced to his buddies “If I had known it was gonna rain I wouldn’t have come!” “Welcome to the Rainforest!” I shouted. One lady tapped her husband on the shoulder and said “honey, move aside for the professional hikers.” I was amused; I guess there are lots of people out there that seldom leave their couches, at least that day they were out and about in a beautiful rainforest.
Puerto Rico
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Karst Country of Puerto Rico
On the weekend of January 29, we decided to take a trip to the Western part of Puerto Rico to go to see a bit of Karst Country, where the limestone has been eroded by rainwater creating caves, tunnels and sinkholes. 6 of us crammed into Alejandros little Toyota Corolla and headed off to the West, driving for a few hours with four of us in the back seat. I felt sorry for my travel companions, as I had a lot of trouble sitting still in the car. A vast division of steep rolling hills defines the landscape; the formations are strewn across the topography that are sometimes called haystacks due to their shape. We headed to Cueva Clara in Camuy, on the early afternoon; a cave system formed as water containing carbonic acid eroded away the surrounding limestone deposited by the accretion of seacreatures over eons of time. According to one website (I don’t remember which, so sorry for my lack of sound research here):
“The Río Camuy Cave Park features a very large cave system covering 268ac/109ha and thought to be the third large cave system in the world. A trolley bus transports visitors to a 200ft/61m deep cave, or sinkhole, which is now a preserved area known as Cueva Clara Empalme. The caves feature various rooms, in some cases with extremely high ceilings, stalagmites and stalactites, and rivers rushing through. A guided tour leads visitors through the Cueva Clara Empalme.”
The tour had a guide, but it was mostly audio. We all had on these audio devices with headphones and would push a button to cue the voice at each numbered station and a radio-voiced man would describe the feature you were near. Our favorite and most cheesy was “La Bruja”: As I turned the corner in a narrow hallway in the cave, a small formation was above me, lit so you could see the profile of a witch. Just then, my audio recorded let out a shrill cackle “Ah ha ha ha ha!” “Mire La Bruja!” The man said, “Isn’t she great?!” To this day we all cackle in the forest and yell out “La Bruja!” The cave had two huge entrances, the second of which opened to a gaping hole where an underground river ran below. My favorite part, though was looking at the plants that covered the entrances. Ferns and mosses and other small vascular plants stretched toward precious light and energy. Some plants were growing upside down, clinging to the stalactites above, and some had huge roots that reached down, over 100 feet of root that looked like fine straws dangling off the edges of the cliffs above the sinkhole. Overall – a really cool cave, but Carlsbad is bigger!
In the afternoon, we headed to a smaller cave that was called Cueva Ventana in Arecibo. Mostly locals visit this cave due to its ambiguous location. We pulled off the major highway, parked at an unassuming Texaco gas station and walked up a small dirt road until we came to a hole in the ground, a huge gaping hole where we heard the chatter of indistinct voices from the vast damp darkness. I put my headlamp on and we walked down a series of steps and limestone into the hole. The floor of the cave consisted of a soft, white sandy substrate, and there were lots of stalactites and stalagmites, but most did not appear “alive” – they were brown and black from the oils of lots of people handling them, and some jerks had even carved their names into the ivory white – now greasy black formations :( It was pitch black inside and as we made our way around in the soft sand I was in awe that this cave was just open to the public. I saw a small speck of light in the distance and as I walked towards it, the cave begin to open to a huge, magnificent view overlooking the flat depositional valley with green pastures and a beautiful river carving through the hill-studded landscape.
We all sat down and soaked in the view, each silent in our own thoughts as we glanced across the landscape. Alejandro broke our trance; “If we hurry we can make it to the beach for sunset!” We hauled out of the cave and down to the car. Alejandro drove us through a creepy-looking mangrove; the dark shadows of trees formed a tunnel that enveloped the narrow road below. We pulled into a spot called Mar Chiquita, and it looked like a bit of the land had stretched out from both ends to eat the sea, as though it were about to phagocytose the ocean. Huge waves squeezed through the narrow gap between the toothy rocks, and we sat in the red, coarse sand to gaze on the sunset. Emily and I decided to walk up on the rock outcrops that surrounded the small strip of beach; they were made of cemented sand that was sharp, and small and large huecos with seawater were randomly scattered. I walked to the edge (but not too far; the sea is still a mysterious element in my world) and looked down to see where the water had weathered the rock into flat palisades, where the waves would crash and water would drip off in flat waterfalls.
After Mar Chiquita, we headed to a local Pizza Parlor and stuffed our faces, then crammed back into the car, satisfied and lethargic from our carb intake to head back to El Verde in Rio Grande.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Post #3
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Today was our first official day of working on our plots, so far so good. I feel a lot better a
b
out my identification skills, but there are literally hundreds of species we still don’t know yet. Overall it was a good day; we got through about three plots, I saw some cool shelf fungus and I got to go running with Sasha and Quentin. I was told not to ever go running alone up here; there are lots of robberies and it isn’t safe unfortunately. I watched 30-Rock for the first time this evening – it was hilarious.
Another good day in the field with beautiful weather and learned more seedlings! We got back to the station around 4:00pm, and had our first seminar. Barbara Richardson, who studies microarthropod diversity in Carribean forests and bromeliads talked for about an hour or so.
There are four types of forest her in Puerto Rico: Palm forest exists in the wettest areas, and Palms here are found irrespective of elevation, Dwarf/Elvin or cloud forest which receives about 5 m of rain per year and is characterized by anoxic soils, low net primary production, and exists above 900 m elevation. Most of the plants in this forest are smaller (dwarf forest), and have cortaceous leaves; they have a thick, waxy covering with lots of xylem tissues and schlerinchema that protects that photosynthetic tissue. In the elfin forest, bromeliads even cover the forest floor. Palo Colorado is the t
hird type of forest, which is subtropical wet and exists between 600 – 900 m asl (abo
ve sea level). This forest is characterized by an open canopy and high structural diversity. And finally, the Tabonuco forest (where I am working) exists at less than 600 m elevation and is characterized by a closed canopy and there are few bromeliads in the lower canopy. Most of the trees here have a compound leaf structure with thin leaves.
Barbara explained that there are two main types of bromeliads: air plants that get moisture from the surrounding air and air particles, and tank bromeliads that have an expanded leaf base that are wrapped aro
und each other and gather detritus. In addition, Bromeliads are only found in the Americas. She specifically studies tank bromeliads which are useful to study because they run parallel with the forest ecosystem – in terms of the same nutrient imputs, and they provide many similar samples for comparison. Bromeliads contain a nutrient rich “soup” made of leaf litter and particles that drop from the surrounding forest. Inside the rosette of leaves are trichomes or hairs that the bromeliads use to absorb nutrients from this soup. What I found most interesting is that there is a markedly higher diversity of organisms that are found all over the world at mid elevations versus lower or higher elevations.
She also showed us some of
the species she has found in bromeliads. Some predatory Staphylinid beetles are dorsoventrally flattened so they can navigate through the leaves of the bromeliads for their prey, and most interesting was the Corethrella sp. – a mosquito that is endemic to Puerto Rico. The
female of this mosquito feeds only on the blood of frogs, and is species specific, finding its prey based on the specific calls! Another German scientist I met here told me he has a recording of different frog calls to collect the different types of mosquitos.
Another day in the field, but today we saw the “canopy walk” near one of our plots on column 4. The overall structure looked a bit sketchy, so I didn’t get out on the walk itself, but I climbed up
the scaffolding to catch a beautiful view above the canopy of the tabonuco forest and saw a couple of butterflies fluttering above. Alejandro saw the shed skin of a snake on top of the structur
e. I also saw a gigantic termite mound, and lots of snails. There are several species, but the one I saw in particular can live up to 15 years. I guess there are not very many predators.
Data Day! Today was wet and rainy all day, so I was more than happy to be in the field
station. We leaned a new database, Paradox, and entered in all of the data we’ve collected so far according to protocol under the instruction of Jill Thompson, associate director of the ITES (Institute of Tropical Ecosystem Studies). I re-drew all our messy plot maps and got the computer working again. Overall a boring day, but at least we were out of the rain.I did some push ups and pull ups before we went out – aridiculously wild night! Several of us from the field
station headed over to old San Juan to get some dinner and drinks and dance. I liked the feel of the older part of the town, the streets are narrow with old Spanish-style architecture and cobblestone streets. There are cute balconies with plants hanging off of them on the upper levels. We saw “El Morro”, an old Spanish fort, and climbed up a wall that used to house cannons that overlooked a graveyard littered with crypts along the edge of the ocean. I realized what an anachronism it was to be standing there at the nexus of history and modern society. Once San Juan was completely walled in as a Spanish fort in the 17th century. We also walked by a huge totem that was made with Taino artifacts.
I felt absolutely horrible all day long from our long night out. We all slept in until about 2:00 in the afternoon, ate and headed to Luquillo Beach for some relaxing fun. I enjoyed soaking in the sea and catching some small waves. We ate dinner at Tapas 13, a Spanish restaurant – the paella was good. I went home and slept from 8:00 pm until 10:30 the next day.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Shopping, sleep, and laundry.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
post #2
Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, Everyone. “Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and concientious stupidity.”- Martin Luther King, Jr.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Night Hike: Paul took into the forest near El Verde, we walked along the muddy trail single file with headlamps. Paul brought a purple UV light he shined along the buttress roots of a huge tree. Small, bright green millipedes shined along the trunk that appeared black with a yellowish longitudinal stripe in the light of our headlamps. Immediately when we turned off our headlamps I noticed fireflies hovering through the forest, I was ridiculously excited since I don’t ever recall seeing fireflies in my life. The abdomen of the Lampyridae had a constant glow of a yellow-green similar to a glow stick.
Along each large tree Paul would instruct the group to turn off our headlamps while he searched the bark surface with his handheld UV light (pretty cool – I want one). We did see a scorpion on one tree, it looked pretty small to me (only about 1.5 in. length), but Paul was pretty exited and told us to be really careful. Paul also talked to us about bioluminescent mushrooms that can be seen in particular areas along the forest floor, but we had no luck finding them, but later in the evening we hiked up alongside the trail onto a relatively flat area and turned our light off, and waited for our eyes to adjust. I was kneeling down on the forest floor when I saw a faded glow on the tabanuco leaves below my feet and near my hands. I picked one of the aromatic leaves up reeling in excitement that I could hold it in my hands. It was incredible to see the diffuse radiance of the leaves below along the floor, and fireflies lazily traversing the canopy above, I felt like I was in Avatar or something – wish I had one of those ponytails. We did not see any mushrooms to speak of, but the mycelium of the mushrooms coats the tabinuco leaves. Christian had a large Ziploc that we put several leaves in to view at the station, but we lost it somewhere along our little journey.
We also saw several small coqui along the way. The babies are small, about as big as my pinky nail (some are even smaller). They are more abundant than the adults. We also saw a very large coqui, and Paul explained that the females have huge heads that continue to grow throughout their lifetime, so the females are much larger with huge heads, while the males are a little smaller and call out in the night. The males will sit over the eggs until they hatch, and since there is no tadpole stage, they look like miniature adults. Sasha asked why they call year round and not only during mating season? Paul looked at her very matter of factly and replied: “Because all year round is mating season, just like any Puerto Rican man.” We all laughed hysterically at that one.
We proceeded up a small stream off the trail and saw the Puerto Rican version of a whip scorpion. In El Paso, we are familiar with the whip scorpions being these scary looking huge black scorpion-like hexapods with a whip tale that shoots out acetic acid (vinegar), but here they look different and belong to a different genera. Paul scuttled up alongside a huge rock, and sitting on the vertical face of it was a whip scorpion, loaded to spring on the next unlucky passerby for a meal. Unfortunately this one outsmarted us and ran under another rock, never to be seen again. Fortunately Paul caught one further up the stream using an interesting method. He filled a freezer Ziploc with air, and put it over the Guagui in a rapid, slapping motion and picked it up while it was somewhat stunned. It was effective, and I imagine this is a method he has perfected over time.
We decided to return home, trailing along the streambed. Along the way, we saw a land crab, which I did not know existed. Just when I thought our adventure was over, right at the end of the trail on a palm we saw a green snail with a small, vestigial shell. I thought it was a slug at first, but I could feel the remnants of a shell, almost like a fingernail on the dorsum of the slimy green animal. I had an awesome time, and slept very well that night. I have grown fond of the echoing chorus of coqui in the mountains here.
Friday was exciting, we headed out into the field early that morning, and focused most of our time learning a variety of ferns. Chris pointed out a tree fern growing along the trail. Tree ferns are quite ancient, and are becoming less and less abundant all over the world. We also learned a few more species of seedlings and vines that we will need to identify for our census. I hope I can remember everything, but at least Chris is repetitive so I am sure most of it will stick eventually. Different terminology is used to describe ferns versus other plants. The day was absolutely gorgeous, not a cloud in the sky and a mild breeze flowing down the hills. That afternoon we sat outside at one of the picnic tables and went over the seedling count protocol under the dappled light.
After work, one of my roommates, Sasha went on a short run up the mountain with me and we got ready for a fiesta. That evening, we headed down the hill just outside the park to “The Stream House”, a two-story home with a beautiful porch on the upper level for a pot luck. I brought some wine and the girls and I contributed our resources to make a salad. It’s a blast chilling with people who are excited when bugs and lizards join us at our affair. Several of us were glued to the porchlight watching an anole lizard pigging out on all of the bugs flying near by.
The “Seedling Squad” as we are dubbed, asked Mike (The Bromeliad Dude) and his wife Barbara, who analyzes the microorganisms in the bromeliads, to take us on a hike sometime and share their knowledge. “Oh yes,” he said, “we will go to the elfin forest and show you around.” Elfin forest! Wow, now it’s like I’m in Lord of the Rings novel. I marvel at the biogeography here in Puerto Rico, where else do you get a wet rainforest, beach, endemic species and a dwarf or cloud (elfin) forest.
I awoke with a slight pounding in my head, and chugged down two full bottles of water and some coffee. The Luquillo annual meeting was starting around 8:00am, but fortunately it is a latino-influenced country and things begin a little later than the predicted. Some of the more anglo scientists seem irked, but I don’t mind it. We drove along the expressway and turned onto a smaller avenue. There were about 20 cops sitting around the front of the natural sciences building for our protection in case of a riot or huelga. Students have been in an uproar over an additional raise in tuition and an $800 per semester quota. Most students want to peaceably assemble and protest, some want to peaceably assemble and have classes closed, and some have turned to violence wearing masks, throwing smoke bombs, and burning books (yes this sounds ridiculously counterproductive to instilling an educational institution with the liberties and interests of the students in mind) in the library. Unfortunately it only takes a few dumbasses to ruin a cause. The violent student wore masks and even threatened other students trying to finish up their classes.
The meeting began with food and coffee, and we went into an auditorium classroom upstairs to listen to the first presenter, a socioeconomist interested in the types of factors that influence human behavior and human values towards environmental issues. I found it pretty interesting, but also depressing to think of “the bottom line” someone has in terms of conservation and overall quality of life. I asked myself the same.
In the late morning, early afternoon we broke into groups to discuss scientific jargon and the overarching conceptual framework in which the proposal would take. I won’t bore you all with the nerdy details, but I found it enlightening. One question that emerged is how do we classify disturbance, because we cannot usually define a disturbance event unless we look at the ecological response to that event that would classify it as a stressor to that system. Can we separate disturbance from response? For example, when does a drought begin, at what point is it considered a drought, and under what threshold does a system respond to it? Can you decide this without looking at the response of organisms to that response? Another discussion that revolved around scientific lexicon involved “chronic and acute vs. pulse and press.
In the words of Ani Difranco “Science chases money and money chases its tail.” The National Science Foundation is a huge source of funding for many projects, particularly Long Term Ecological Research (LTER – there are several all around the US and world). There are several themes that seem to be emerging in science as a push from funding sources kind of dictates the direction in which it will go. For example, lately in science there is a growing concern and even an “aha!” moment when humans realized that we are part of the system, and that we actually depend on several resources and ecological processes for our society. So now, we have science involving “disturbance”, “anthropogenic influences”, “land history use and land cover change”. Of course, this is shifting even with technological advances, one major theme in some universities is “from genes to environment”, looking for genetic precursors, signals and such. ANYWAY – enough nerd talk!
After lunch the rest the seedling squad and another student headed to Avenida Ponce de Leon where there are lots of little shops (just like downtown El Paso) and food vendors. There was tons of grafitti, and one of the artists even designed art for coca cola. Entire buildings are pieces of art, and most of it has some form of sociopolitical influence. After a long walk and a beer we headed back to the conference past a gate full of police. One of them veered over at us and placed his hand on his baton (mind you he was surrounded by 15 other cops with weapons, while we looked like guero tourists). Alejandro, the only boriqua in the seedling squad informed them we were there for the conference and they let us through. We just sat outside and napped since we were back late and the meeting had already began. After, we ate and Colibri picked me up from campus.
The rest of the crew proceeded to Fiesta de San Sabastian, a boriqua rager that goes on from Thursday to Sunday. I decided to opt out, I don’t like huge crowds of borrachos, and in the evening it gets so packed that you can barely move around. Fortunately Coli shares my sentiments. I will have to ask how the others enjoyed it, but I went to Coli’s and chilled out and slept, quite satisfied. Colibri set me up on a nice inflatable mattress in the living room of her apartment and fed me although we don’t know each other really well or anything.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
I met Colibri in El Paso through a mutual friend, and we had gone climbing together several times while she was there. The previous evening we talked a lot since we didn’t know each other really well. She has been very hospitable and friendly. That morning we headed to her dad’s house in Rio Piedras to give him the car, since they share it. While he was getting ready to go to work at El Yunque, Coli and I talked a bit. She’s been through some really rough times, emotionally and financially. Her mom died of cancer 5-6 years ago and her father went thorough a bought of depression, but I am taken back at her incredible fortitude and positive attitude toward her goals. Fortunately he is doing much better, and he dropped us off near old San Juan since we were going to try to go to the Fiesta that afternoon, but the busses were jam packed full of people and we both opted out once more. Abre! We yelled and the bus doors opened to open air and freedom. We walked about 2 miles back to her place, which by the way is only 1 block from the beach. That afternoon all we did was hang out at the beach and swam. I have not been to one in over 8 years! Way too long, I need to get out and travel more, I think it puts so much more perspective on life.
Last night, after returning from the beach Colibri cooked some red snapper and pasta. Later we went to a really cool and trendy little Indian food place that plays great music – like the Buena Vista Social club and in the late evening people go there to dance. It was a friend’s birthday. We were both tired so we headed back and I fell asleep as soon as I hit the mattress.
Life is rough here in Puerto Rico; I slept in until 8:30, journaled (I realize that is not a word), reviewed some plant species and hit the beach. Colobri wanted to swim, so we stretched and swam about ¼ mi. which is challenging in the ocean. I consider myself a fairly descent swimmer, but after paddling my butt off and barely being able to keep up with Coli I realize I have a long way to go before being able to go surfing. I had fun trying to catch waves and body surf. After swimming in the warm waters along the northern coast, I did some hard work falling asleep in the sand. Now I am heading back to El Verde Field Station, where I will unpack from the weekend and prepare for work tomorrow. We will be enacting all of the protocol on “The Big Grid”. I hope I can remember all of the species I learned, I reviewed them a bit today, but I still feel like I am behind in learning some key characteristics of them – Practice makes perfect, so they say, or as my guitar instructor used to tell me, perfect practice makes perfect..
Hope you all enjoyed my verbose ramblings, until next time….