There’s a party in my mouth and everyone’s invited. That’s how good this beer is…simply amazing. Hazy amber in color with a white head - 2 fingers high - floating on top. The aroma was thick with floral, caramel and malts. Surprisingly, the alcohol is rather subtle in this beverage. Overall, one of the best IPAs that I have had the privilege of drinking.

The other night was walking the aisles of my local organic food store, and what did I spy with my little eye? Maudite! I have been hearing things about this beer for quite some time. This was not an opportunity to be passed up and the liquid love had to be shared with Sam.

The beer poured with a thin head with a brown sugar nose. The mouth feel was light on the carbonation and the flavor was absolutely spectacular. This is a beer that is deserving of being sought out by any beer lover.

Pours reddish brown with a huge creamy off white head. The lacing is excellent and the head shrinks back a little, but it is fully lasting. The aroma is awesome, sour cherries, with a little malt sweetness. Taking a drink, I am blown away. What hits you first is some caramel maltiness, followed by a very distinct Belgian fruity yeast, then thirdly a tartness of cherries. In the finish there is a slight sweetness of brown sugar or maple syrup. The duration of the finish is quite long, the sourness of the lambic and the sweetness go back and forth. The body is medium to full with a creamy texture and lively carbonation. One word can describe this beer - Awesome!

As a self-profused beer snob, I have tendency to look down upon the “macro” brews. You know those rice and corn bottles of pissy water. Everything from their lack of balls to the awful color turns me off to these beers most of the time. That’s right, I said most of the time. Imperial Cerveza is a macro-brewed beverage that is native to Costa Rica, and when I am down there it is great. Light, cool and readily available. It’s a great beverage when looking out onto the the seemingly never-ending Pacific from a swing at a beach bar. Even the way condensation sweats along the recycled a thousand times bottle is attractive.

Truth be told, if I were to have this beer at home, I would most likely rail against it. I would say something like, “Its Bud Light’s Latino cousin. All of the pissy flavor with a Central American flair.” But, have it on the beach in Costa Rica, Imperial is a great brew. It enjoys what few beers have - situational greatness.

During my trip to Costa Rica, my cat, Piddy, passed away from a rapid form of cancer. It might sound somewhat sappy and fluffy, but she was one cool and special kitty. She was the most gentle and sweet cat, and she was Olivia’s best buddy. She will be missed.

Wake up this morning, scraped my teeth and out the door I went. Wandering along the beach and the town of Jaco, I managed to turn a couple of great birds.

Outside of the clinic, a huge line of folks was queued up for doctoring. A young lady feeding a tiny infant with an exposed breast. Not within an American’s sensibilities, but what good any more normal? Ruddy Ground-doves where feeding in the empty back parking lot.

Oh yeah, parrots…I finally got a couple of good shots of Scarlet Macaw. I’ve been seeing these almost every morning and it’s about damn time I had one sit still for enough for a few frames. For the most parts, parrots are monumentally frustrating…never posing - bastards!

The herp of the day was large male Basilisk that was sunning itself on a stone in the middle of tidal stream. It was awesome to finally see a big Basilisk.

Today was what I call a level 10 adventure. What makes it a level 10? Well, a couple of near-death experiences, several great birds, and no plan other than visit the highest waterfall in Costa Rica and see some outstanding birds and herps.

We started out the day by hopping the bus from Jaco to Tarcoles, and this is where the adventure began. We hiked up the road to the world famous Hotel Villa Lapas, and we decided to try and jump a ride to the Manantial de Agua Viva Waterfall. Along the road, I found my first snake of the trip, a dead on the road unidentified serpent. Once we reached the lodge we asked the front desk to find us some transportation. The front desk was unable to reach any of the taxis in the area, so we decided to take a jaunt around the grounds. I was able to locate a Plain Wren and a Common Tody-flycatcher. For some reason this bird seems relatively foreign look to it…oh yeah, I’m in a foreign country. Grounds of this hotel are absolutely outstanding, a more perfect place for a lodge I can not imagine. Along the small river adjacent to the property, I found a sensitive plant which with a mere touch causes the leaves and twigs to fold or go limp. A great example of the bio-diversity of the rainforest. Our taxi, or better put our truck, arrived and for a mere $30 (good God did we taken for a ride, both literally and figuratively). We guys jumped in the back of this little white, underpowered POS (piece of shit), and up the road we went with a cloud of dust and spray of gravel. As we gained ~4700 feet in ~7 kilometers, scenery went from outstanding to sublime. The panorama of mature rainforest and the Pacific Ocean far below was breathtaking. Glancing up the valley, a white ribbon of the waterfall snaked down the verdant landscape. Now this is fun…well, at least for me - Adventure Level 5.

Hopping out of the truck, we were standing outside of a shack with two guys whose English was only little better than my Spanish, which is abhorrent. I tried to inform the driver that I wanted a pick-up for us at 2 o’clock, and it was plainly obvious that we were not communicating (a running theme for me). We paid the driver and paid the reserve fee, and we could begin our descent to the waterfall (a little backwards from the usual Montana vertical expedition to a waterfall). The trail steep but well-maintained. The birds started to come fast and furious. Red-capped Manakin, Northern Bentbill, and Blue-crowned Manakin. Then, Melody called out a frog, and there was a Green-and-Black Poison-Arrow Frog. Completely awesome - Adventure Level 7.

The continued to drop and then a steep rise to the waterfall. This portion of the trail was interesting, which should be read as gnarly. It become more like rock climbing than hiking. Streams flowed over the giant slabs of stone and trees laid over the trail. Crudely constructed ladders were placed over steep sections. The roar of the fall grew in volume as we approached. All of a sudden, there it was, a beautiful, giant waterfall. We stood in awe for several minutes. I was completely floored by sight and trip - Adventure Level 9.

Below the lookout, there was a shabby sign that stated “Proceed at own risk” - sounds awesome. Jed and I picked our way down the trail and used a rope to literally rappel 10 feet or so. Once at the bottom, large boulders stood in our way to the bottom of the falls. These behemoths were coated with this slick red mud that made footing “interesting”. I picked a route up and over about 4 large boulders. I found a foothold and hoisted myself up. Reaching for a corresponding handhold, my hand slipped on the mud. I grasped again and again my hand slid away. As gravity took grip, I tilted backwards and fall earthward. Tucking in to protect the vitals, I smacked on my back and, then, my head pounded a stone with deep thud. In an instance, I popped up on my feet, only to feel a stinging pain in my ankles. Looking down, both joints were starting to stream with blood. A couple checks later, I decided that “I ain’t got time to bleed”, and I started to re-scramble to the boulder field. Within a couple of tense minutes, I stood with Jed at the base of this magnificent torrent. The breeze from the crashing water was warm and wet and you feel the power of the water. Are you kidding me? - Adventure Level 10.

Did I mention that I was drinking plenty of water? Oh yeah, I wasn’t and with the tropical heat I was about to pay a heavy price. As much as the trail descended, it needed to be ascended an equal amount. As the trudge up began, I started to sweat a profuse amount, even heavy for me. Each step became increasingly difficult and my mind began to get a little. Melody pointed out a bird in the undergrowth. Glancing at it, a Black-faced Antthrush. but my condition didn’t allow me to be fully excited.

About 150 meters from the top, I was at my point. Jed bounded up to the shack and purchased 3 $2 waters. Upon his return, I guzzled 2 of them immediately. I managed to make the ridge and found a couple of lonely guys listening to love songs buzzing from a cheap radio. At this point, I had two goal objectives - cool off and to get the hell of the this mountain. Did mention that we had not eaten? Well, that I was my doing as well, sorry guys. After stripping off my dripping shirt, my body temperature lowered and I began to scheme a way down from here. I ask the gentleman about the bus. “Bus comes by all the time, except Sunday.” Guess what day it was? Can one of you hombres take us to the highway? “No permisos.” Great! I flagged down a beat up Nissan Sentra, and after some negotiation the four of us were crammed into the back of this POS (surprise!) and down the mountain we went. I must admit that this guy and his lovely wife, girlfriend, or significant other as they say nowadays suffered us fairly well. “Gringos loco.”

Dropped off at the highway, we waited by a decrepit bus stop. And wait we did. An executive decision was hatched and down the highway we marched towards Jaco. I can think several thousand things safer than walking along a Costa Rican highway. The pedestrian never has the right of way, and several near-misses later we arrived at another bus stop with several dudes just hanging out waiting for the bus. Once again we waited. With everyone thirsty and/or hungry, the other 3 went down to the little store 15 meters from the bus stop. Jed joked about giving the signal, which was hands waving overhead, if the bus were to arrived. Guess what happened? That’s right, not 1 minute after they disappeared into the store, a bus rolled up. So, what do I do in my heat-stroky (is that a word?) condition, both hands go up into the air and began to flail wildly as I scream their names. I do this well at the same time motioning to the driver that 3 more are coming. I must have looked completely crazy - dehydrated, dirty and screaming; all the hallmarks of a raving lunatic. A kid at the bus stop took pity on me and ran into the mercado, and seconds later my worthy compatriots come running over to the bus.

Our adventure for the day drew to close with taco from a gringo place called the Taco Bar. Bellies full and liquids replaced, we drifted home for an evening of nothing, which is exactly what we wanted by this point. Oh yeah, one last piece of adventure, there was a drug bust right next to our backyard. All in all, adventure comes with its price and I for one am buying that ticket and taking the ride.

A quick note…What can be more independent than Cuban Cohibas and Imperial Beer after a great meal at the beachside Bohio (they have the best crab cakes that I have ever had)?

The Fourth of July in Costa Rica - no Red, White and Blue here.

I walked up the street to the bus stop at about 5 AM and passed the Jaco Taco, which still had the party raging even though it was getting light out now. Well, at least it is dedication to the theme. As I strolled up the street and worked up my first sweaty lather of the day (heat and humidity do not do me any favors), I noticed that there where a steady stream of security guards getting off from their shifts. I am certain that the major industry of this town is not tourism, but security. My God, what a herd of uniformed night watchmen.

Once I was on the bus, I work to explain to the driver that I went to let off at Carara National Park headquarters. After about a ~30 minutes, I was standing in the empty parking lot of the park. I went birding around the grounds where I was able to find several good birds - Scaly-breasted Hummingbird and Yellow-crowned Euphonia. God, those little euphonias are tough - they all look alike and never stay still long enough.

Having paid the entrance fee, I started down the trail was almost immediately hearing a Great Tinamou and a group of White-faced Capuchins overhead. I finally got a great look at these little, gregarious primates. The group moved, well, let’s say less than gracefully through the canopy. What a racket these little buggers make. Limbs thrashing and crashing, a variety of chips and squeaks, and the occasional fruit landing on the forest floor with a thud. I am astonished at how much of the floor of the rainforest resembles the floor of a cedar-hemlock forest back home in Montana. Both are rather open in the understory as so little light reaches the earth to span any new growth. However, every little speck of light that does make it to the floor has a bit of new vegetation growing within it.

Soon, I had picked up Bicolored and Chestnut-backed Antbirds. The understory was absolutely thrashing with several species of lizards - anoles, amevias, and iguanas. The song of a White-breasted Wood-wren rings through the thick, verdant forest. I stop at small gravel at the creek and foraging at the water’s edge is a pair of Sulpher-rumped Flycatchers. The forest across the little was raucous with a myriad of calls and chips, and to my ears it was an enjoyable cacophony. It was very difficult to pull out any specific species but what a joy it was to sit back and breathe in this spectacle of avian diversity and volume.

One of my favorite things about Carara was the number of leaf-cutter ants. It seems that every few meters a little trail of these insects crossing the trail. It is amazing to think that they spend their lives harvesting bits of leaves from the forest, dragging them back to the colony, and allowing a fungus to use the leaf fragments. Then, the ants utilize the fungus for food. Simply amazing. I was trying to be as careful as possible not to step on these creatures. What an experiences lay down next the column of ants and watch them as they went about their business.

Further along the trail, I managed to find a Scarlet Macaw pair that appeared to be coming in and out of a nesting cavity. Finding macaws is relatively easy in that they are constantly calling and, believe me, those calls are harsh and loud.

After leaving the national park, I hike along the highway for about a mile and half to the bridge over the Rio Tarcoles with a idea being to catch the bus back to Jaco. The walk was, to say the least, intense - the sun is just about 3 feet from the back of my neck. Crossing the bridge, I glance down at the 20+ crocs that gather under the structure. I arrive at the little restaurante and gift shop on the far side of bridge and I buy a big bottle of water and an Imperial (a common refrain). Enjoying my beverages, I strike up a conversation with an attractive ex-pat from Canada who worked in the gift shop. She mentioned that she could hook me up with the Crocodile Man Tour, and after a few calls, we had strike a deal for the tour and a ride back to Jaco for $20…totally awesome.

Soon a driver arrived and I was off to the mouth of the Rio Tarcoles along the dirt back roads. No matter where you go in the world, the backroads have common feel to them - the potholes, roadside fence and the gentle pace of life.

Arriving at the boat dock, I was able to pick up Mangrove Swallows. The boat left the boat and soon I was picked up a great bird - the Boat-billed Heron. These birds seem like some remanent of ancient times with their prehistoric expression that the bill imparts. I have actually been waiting to see this creature for quite some time and this sighting did not disappoint.

Now about the Crocodile Man, I am definitely not a fan of feeding critters that may start associating humans with food, especially those 14 feet long and have a hundred teeth within their bone-crushing jaws. However, the opportunity to see these crocodiles up close and unfettered was amazing. The Crocodile Man, whose parents named Jason, would hand-fed the crocs with large hunks of fish, and it seemed that he absolutely knew what he was doing. I wonder how he developed that talent? A steeper learning curve, I can not imagine. Below is a collection images from this part of trip.

On a sad side note, the Rio Tarcoles is absolutely filthy with garbage from San Jose on downstream. Even in a country known for its ecological diversity, the human animal has managed to come up with ways to spoil their own environment. Hopefully someday the children of Costa Rica will stop simply throwing their garbage in the streams and thinking that out of sight means out of mind.