Walkers and Hikers

Photo from last Saturday: Kids and dogs hike the Waterfalls at El Tigre

We learned how to categorize hikers while on the ship, Mare Australis, going around Tierra del Fuego, through the Straits of Magellan, and up the Beagle Channel to Punta Arenas, Chile. En route, twice daily, almost everyone, except the most hung-over of passengers, ferried over to the glaciers on Zodiac boats. There, the crew divided the passengers into groups: first by language - English, French and Spanish - and then again by ‘walker type’. Advanced Walkers got to scramble up onto the glaciers, Intermediate Walkers did the botanical walks on trails and, finally, there were those who didn’t walk at all - coined by GRAK as “Johnny Walkers” - who stayed back at the beach, sipping whiskey over glacier ice!

We ran into fellow Horseman, War (aka Tim Hodgson), on the day we disembarked. I just happened to glance out the window and saw - “My God, it’s an Englishman” - a tall, lanky fellow, with cape billowing in the wind. War couldn’t get passage with us, so settled for the next cruise out. As a fellow sailor, we introduced our mate to the Captain and got him seated at the Captain’s Table. However, he told us later that the passengers seated at the other tables had a lot more fun! Mare Australis attracts an international group of interesting, mostly fit people. Having said that, on some days, we were Advanced Walkers but, on other days, we weren’t up for walking at all. The difference mostly depended on what had happened the night before, as the party scene continued every night, all cruise long. We met a German athlete on his way to hike a mountain in Antarctica, and this guy did it all - partied all night and managed to get up at dawn every morning in time to catch the Zodiac over to the glaciers. At the other extreme, a few people never even left the ship. But most of us fell someplace in between.

That’s how it is with hiking, it depends on how you feel - perhaps a twinge in the knee - and you may not feel up to the hike that you’d scheduled to do with a group of friends.

No problem. At El Tigre, all the hikes are beautiful. In fact, some pals don't walk at all - they just settle down on the terrace with binoculars and spend the morning quite splendidly, just looking around at what comes calling in the gardens. Rainy season is the best time of the year for butterflies (in the dry season, they are mostly up in the trees or in other stages of butterfly life) but birding is always awesome. Dry season brings in the migrants passing through from the north, as well as the usual residents. And there are a slew of them!

In any case, fellow hiker, Abby, put it best - categorizing Hikes and Hikers is relative, and depends on your perspective. What’s Easy for Armando, like scrambling about the Waterfalls, is actually an Advanced Hike - only for fit hikers who feel at ease scaling mountains and rock climbing. The Waterfalls is actually my favorite hike and I love to go down there whenever possible. We just went down there the other day with the kids and three of the dogs, and had a blast. I have observed that kids have natural balance and can skip over rocks with the greatest of ease - sickening, isn’t it…

Do you have natural balance? I don’t - as Gerald loves to point out whenever we foxtrot together - but the Taijiquan and dancing lessons helped me a lot. Natural balance - dancers, surfers, snow boarders…

You do need natural balance to go along with us on the Advanced Hikes at El Tigre. We also go off-trail, with Armando roughing out the route in front of us with a machete. I have a group of girlfriends who love to go out exploring, even if it means returning home filthy and scuffed up: Robin Emigh, Penny Houghton, Kathryn Tanzi, Leigh Moynihan, Beth Crane, to name just a few. Beth and I hiked and botanized everywhere - even in forbidden places, like on a golf course. One time, her husband yelled at us to get off the golf course, when he spotted us botanizing out there around the seventh hole at Los Suenos. We sped off in the golf-cart, numerous leafy specimens scattering in our wake. But, another time, she played one of her best games while botanizing with me - so there, Greg. If only the husbands knew how we girls used to ramble all over the place, sometimes getting into trouble.

After a few accidents at El Tigre, Gerald began accusing me of trying to kill off all my friends. So I decided to make most of our hikes ‘intermediate hikes’ - strenuous but not scary. The guys have improved the trails, and we’ve taken other steps to minimize injuries.

But, a hike is a hike, and if you arrive at El Tigre feeling a twinge in your knee and not feeling up to, say, hiking down to the Mines, please just let me know! I am basically a lazy person, and will only too happily send your husband and other pals with Armando, while we go and enjoy the views over at Tiger Hill, or just stroll in the gardens and meet up with the other hikers at the swimming pool.

So what type of hiker is Gerald? Well, we’ve rambled all over: Torres del Paine; Patagonia; Highland Scotland; the English Lake District, where Wordsworth inspired me to return home to PA and plant a hillside of Daffodils; and many other fascinating places. However, the main thing that unites all of these hikes is that there is always a pub at the end of it. Gerald has hiked for hours, across miles of footpaths, in even the foulest of weather (I’ll never forget how he hauled us all the way up to Hadrian’s Wall in gale force winds) to reach - a pub he’d read about somewhere.

However, as there are no pubs at Reserva El Tigre and, after hiking, we always end up back in the housekeeper’s kitchen with the cats and various other fauna, what type of Walker do you think Gerald is here at the Finca?

People often ask me how we can keep all the animals around here in harmony. Normally, dogs and cats are at war. Well, it’s not harmony so much as a dynamic state of flux. Just look at where I come from. Even now, Mom and Cyril are planning their move from Michigan down to Florida in a van, together with, as mother says, “Picture this!” - Van occupants: Mom and Cy, 6 dogs, 2 birds, a new kitten (Avi their late, beloved, Maine Coon Cat is still very much missed), and Grandpa (now 93 years old!). My brother Al will drive them down in the van but, afterwards, will return back to Michigan. Some of the clan still likes the cold, but it was Cy’s last winter in Michigan after losing his big toe last winter.

And it’s a great buyers’ housing market right now, so they bought a house in Florida. And the whole animal herd will move with them and, of course, grandpa, who very much looks forward to it. However, I shall very much miss sitting in the hot-tub with Cy and grandpa back in Michigan, dogs lolling about all around.

Of Dogs and Kids

Kids play with Eddie in the hay barn. From left: Geovanna, Karla, Eddie the Beagle, and Danny.

In the Dog World, there are two kinds of people: ‘Dog People’ and ‘Not Dog People’. Everyone here at Reserva El Tigre is a ‘Dog Person’.

Currently, we have 8 dogs, now that Eddie the Beagle has been accepted into the pack. Eddie came to us last week from a very nice, French-speaking family who named him, Idée Fixée - Fixed Idea. They soon learned that Idée Fixée was ‘fixed’ on having lots of fun all day long! But he quickly grew into a bit of a handful for their small children. So they needed to find a home for their beloved pup that would give him a chance to run and play all day long! Somehow, through six-degrees-of-separation, especially S.A.S.Y.*, Idée Fixée landed at Reserva El Tigre.
And the Yank in the household renamed him Eddie. With my appalling accent (my Parisian boss in Madrid once begged me never to speak French again in his presence), Idée and Eddie sound mas o menos the same.

Normally, we only adopt mixed-breed dogs - muts, zaguates - because they are healthy, sweet and easy to train. We made an exception in accepting a Beagle because we thought he would fit into the pack - not too big, not too fragile and easy to train.

But, boy oh boy, is Eddie a handful! Yes mom, you are so right - Eddie is not for small children. He is rambunctious, avidly curious, and wants to play with any species at all! Gracias a Dios, the children are home on a two-week school vacation - they can help train and play with Eddie. The kids belong to the resident employees and are aged 12, 10, and 6 - perfect for romping with the dogs. And that’s what they’ve been doing pretty much non-stop since Eddie arrived last Saturday. Kids and dogs: hiking, walking, swimming, football, romping…
…Eddie even went along with them horseback riding this morning. The kids had to cut the ride short when they turned around and saw him ambling along behind them - he is just a 7-month old pup after all! But the horses still gave him a good run and, after they got back to the stables, Eddie needed a long nap. Later, he joined the kids and other dogs for a game of soccer, which everyone else in the world calls football. Eddie made the kids play better because, if he could get his nose on the ball, he would run off with it, bouncing the ball ahead of him with his nose, with everyone else after him in hot pursuit.

During school holidays, dog routines and habits change from normal - in my experience, dogs always prefer to hang out with the kids. I’m sure that’s true in most households everywhere.

Once the kids return to school, however, the dogs revert to normal - hanging out with us adult humans; not nearly as much fun as the kids, but any human will do - the guys down in the pastures, the gals in the gardens, and often with me pretty much anywhere. If not with humans, then the dogs lounge together with the cats, either at the stables or over at the house, depending on where someone might be around to give them some attention. We keep fresh food and water out all day in both places, moving dishes around continuously to keep the ants at bay. It’s just easier that way, so everybody learns to share.

You can always see all the dogs together at teatime - around 4pm - when Gerald likes to go out and give all of them something good to eat, sometimes leftover stuff, like pork chops or paella with the works! But Gerald won’t just give the dogs a treat willy-nilly. Oh no! They have to work for it! They have to sit! We can hear Gerald out there with the dogs all around him: “Sit! You sit you! Sit down Spotty! There’s a good girl”. And you look out the window and see him with all the dogs sitting ever so obediently around him, Gerald walking around and putting tasty morsels in their mouths! After that rather agreeable session, the dogs split up once again and return to their favorite hang-outs to lounge and nap for the afternoon.

I take my turn with Eddie to help train him to respond to voice commands: Heel…Sit…Come…Stay. He is a smart pup, and has quickly learned to heel and sit. With help from the kids, we should have him fully trained on the other commands by the end of this week. Training is essential for the dogs living out here in the forest. We think of it as giving them survival skills. Dogs like to nose around, and sometimes end up nosing around where they shouldn’t. So, hopefully, they will never bite down on a harsh dose of reality - say the fiery burn of a hortiga plant or an army ant or a porcupine or worse - and learn their lesson the hard way.

At night, we bring Spotty and Flopsy inside to the laundry room, because they are used to it and accept the confinement. The rest of the dogs want to stay outside, sleeping up on terrace chairs, over at the stables, or in their own special hiding places. Eddie tried out sleeping in the stables, and even spent a night in a hollowed out Guanacaste tree. I was a bit startled when Hugo found him all curled up inside the tree sleeping peacefully the next morning, and I feared for all the creepy night-crawlers around, but the guys assured me, in their own words, that the expression, ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’, is understood by species all the way back the evolutionary tree to worms and insects. The crawlies catch his scent and stay clear. Still, it’s funny how many animal expressions apply to human behavior.

Eddie has reminded us of another expression exclusive to the puppy world, ‘Anything you let drop to the ground instantly enters the dog’s domain’.

In any case, Eddie has lately developed a preference for sleeping outside the house in a big comfy box that we found for him.

Do our dogs wander into the forest? Well, they love to follow us humans down there, and we’ve trained them to stay with us on the trails. When I go out by myself hiking, Flopsy will almost always scent me out to catch up, even if I have an hour head start. The bigger dogs only go into the forest to follow the workers or to chase off other animals and even other dogs and cats (usually abandoned to the forest by their owners). Sometimes, however, our pack accepts an abandoned animal. The last to get accepted was a scrawny cat we named ‘Skinny Bones’. He disappeared some months afterwards, when a big cat - described as either a Jaguarundi or a Margay (Caucel) - started mauling our male cats. The dogs managed to chase it off, but they sure didn’t want to tangle with it. Luckily, the big cats have big territories, and there’s much to hunt in the forest, even small deer.

All the resident dogs and cats recognize each other and only chase each other to have some fun. Eddie already knows the others, and moves among them at this point without needing the leash. He was freed from the leash on Tuesday - and immediately got into trouble. We always have more difficulty getting new dogs to recognize our free-range chickens as litter-mates, and this has proved no exception with Eddie. We had to rescue a chicken he had in his mouth on Tuesday. Luckily, she survived, and Eddie learned his lesson from Marcia - a housekeeper with a very good voice, “NO, NO, NO!!!” - and Eddie got the message. It’s tough being a dog…

And chasing after prey is so much fun for dogs, but they really must overcome their instinct to hunt, and replace it with an instinct to please humans. That’s why we like mixed-breeds best. Hunting breeds, especially those genetically disposed, or bred, to hunt and kill - like the Poodle - have a killer instinct stronger than the instinct to please their master. And it’s almost impossible to completely train out that instinct. The only way, perhaps, would be to raise the pups in the hen house. The farmers we met in Spain and France did that with amazing success. The hens could even wander around the house without getting harassed, not even by the housekeepers!

However, the gals just won’t abide chickens in the kitchen in this day and age. Reminds me of what Armando’s mom, Dona Rosa said to me once:

“Kids today are just so lazy!”

Well, we’ve heard that line from all sorts of people over the years, and whenever we ask them the reason why, the answers are all different. But I shall never forget Dona Rosa’s answer:
“Kids are lazy today because they don’t know how to kill and pluck a hen!”

How could I fess up to her that I don’t have a clue how to do that either!

In any case, luckily, Eddie has a strong instinct to please and learns quickly. We are confident that he will do just fine with his merry pack of canines, felines, equines, etc. here at Tigre.

So, to the young man who seemed a bit glum about leaving his first beloved dog to a new family, please don’t worry. Eddie will always have you as his first best friend. Someday, you will have another pet to play with. In the meantime, if you ever find yourself hiking with your parents near Tigre, do call us up and come visit Eddie. I have a feeling he will remember you with great joy!

In other news, the road from Ciudad Colon to Rodeo closed again Friday at 10PM due to a landslide. I like saying goodbye to the outer world - kind of like blizzard days in the North - awesome! We would telecommute and go skiing or snow shoeing or build a snow fort…

Well, Gerald wasn’t happy about it at all! And when the workers plowed a kind of mucky lane open by Saturday afternoon, I still didn’t want to take the risk to go out, in case it closed again and we got stuck out there. Gerald really wanted to try out this new restaurant in Santa Ana, and was just furious that we were stuck - trapped, as he put it - here at Reserva El Tigre. And this was despite a delightful meal we prepared him, with ingredients all grown fresh here at the Finca. Gerald was not to be appeased, but did relent and relaxed a bit more after opening a bottle of Marques de Riscal Gran Reserva ‘95…

*S.A.S.Y.: What is it?
Stop Animal Suffering Yes! - run by a group of smart, stylish, accomplished, multi-cultural, DROP DEAD GORGEOUS women, who came together to stop animal cruelty here in Costa Rica. And within a few short years, S.A.S.Y. has become an amazing fundraising organization. Their 2005 Calendar of - you guessed it - gorgeous women posing in the buff with their favorite pet, has become quite a collectors’ item. The funds raised from S.A.S.Y. go to support various Costa Rican animal organizations that rescue, shelter and/or spay & neuter cats and dogs, and sometimes also help other animals like horses. They also support educational programs aimed at preventing animal cruelty and teaching kids how to care for their pets. Google their website for more information on the tremendous work they do.

Shrubbery

This shrubbery is located between stable and house
I have always loved shrubberies and the shrubbers who shrub. We first experienced the massive shrubberies, always the best, in England. Shrubs and hedgerows greeted us everywhere, as we meandered across the island doing one of our Pubs & Gardens tours. I still have the itineraries. Gerry chose the pubs and I picked the gardens. So we went from National Trust Garden to pub, to another garden in the afternoon, and then to the pub where we would stay the night. We did that every year during most of the 90’s, and I got to see a lot of shrubberies, not to mention the Mecca of all gardeners – the Chelsea Flower Show in London.
At that time, we lived in Upper Bucks County in Pennsylvania, and never missed the Philadelphia Flower Show in March – even if we had to drive through snow storms to get there. Those 90’s were heady gardening days when I would come back from the garden shows, head straight to the catalogs, and begin ordering for the season in our garden at Hessian House on County Line Road. I did the whole lot: formal flowering borders, parkland, culinary, woodland, wetland and, above all else, SHRUBBERIES! My favorite was the massive mixed shrubbery planted along the road - mostly Viburnum and Holly, but I also had a lot of fun with hydrangeas. I met gardening soulmates, Marj Swenson and Polly Ivenz (Polly, the butterflies are in full fluttering flight right now here at the Finca). We also lived next door to organic gardening experts, Ana and Ken Kodamos, doctorate level scientists associated with Rodale Press and Lehigh University. They inspired me to go totally organic, though it wasn’t easy with the golf course-style gardener we had in Pennsylvania. Even so, those were the gardening days. I thought I knew something.
Then we moved to Costa Rica, and I got blown away by all the biodiversity here in the Tropics and had to study all over again.
Now Armando is helping us to plant a series of shrubberies all over the place but, this time, I’m mixing function with beauty. Is it beautiful and edible? Then we will always find room for it! Gardening in the Tropics is very different from the Zone 6 in Pennsylvania, where the dormant winter season gives us a bit of a rest. In Costa Rica, the dry season causes some plants to go dormant, but not all the insects, and the war goes on! Right now we’re in the rainy season - my favorite in terms of beauty. But we’re also at the height of horsefly season. We’re using Citronella repellants for the horses (and ourselves…), trying experiment after experiment to improve the concoction. The cream is effective but too short in duration. Now we’re thinking of weaving the citronella grass right into the manes and tails - making a kind of grass-enhanced tail that our horses can use like a broom - whack! If the scent doesn’t keep the flies away, then use the tail! Of course, the horses can whack a fly dead with the tail anyway, so what the hell am I talking about? Well, maybe the whacking will release more citronella in the air every time the horse whacks and, thus he won’t need to whack so often?
Oh, just forget about the whacking and get back to shrubberies. Tropical shrubberies are not subtle things - you have lots of big leaves and bright colors. The butterfly gardens are actually shrubberies. Even the Lantana grows to become a big shrub here, and develops spines! - just part of its adaptation to the tropical world. You have to methodically prune and remove certain incorrigible plants, or else the shrubbery can become a monster in very short order. I have learned many lessons, and made some appalling mistakes. Now I consult Armando before buying anything - we probably have it already - and he chooses where to plant. All I do is the rough design, and he’s even getting the swing of that! There’s no greater joy than gardening with someone who really understands nature - going with it rather than fighting it. It’s the old indigenous way, which my northern gardening pals might recognize as elements of organic gardening – but new ways for a lot of people.
Happy gardening out there!