Waterfall Plunges and Tours for DJs

Finally, we saw his flashlight appear on the other side of the bridge. On WhatsApp, he’d referred to it as a “torch,” so I expected he’d be from the U.K. The torch paused for several seconds before slowly floating across the river. It was 5:51 A.M., meaning he was half an hour late. The sky was fading from black to gray, and the birds would be starting in a few minutes. This “Mark” guy better have a good story to tell, I thought.

It was an inauspicious start to our first Andean Cock-of-the-Rock tour as managers of the reserve, and we didn’t yet understand that that was mostly our fault. Thankfully, though, as our guest bobbed into view at the terminus of the entrance trail, our anxiety melted away. He looked happy as could be with his big smile and his black KISS ballcap atop his bald head dripping with sweat. We could tell immediately that this was a nice guy and that this would be a good morning after all. And, as it turned out, Mark did have a good story to tell. It involved lots of confusion regarding wrong turns, walking ten minutes off-trail up a ravine, heeding large letters reading “PROPRIEDAD PRIVADA NO INGRESAR” and turning around, and many texts which we didn’t receive until later. “I’ve come to the water with wood boards,” one read, “Do I walk in the boards over the water. I tried crossing but no trail?” Another pair of texts, soon after, asked, “Can’t find trail. Did I go too far?” He must have been up the ravine about then.

The situation precipitated from three factors: 1) Mark got dropped off at the wrong gate, about 40 meters from the right gate – enough to make the difference before first light, 2) he was not used to walking in the dark down long, strange trails with many twists and foreboding signs in a foreign language, and 3) we didn’t properly consider that fact and failed to provide enough details in our directions. It’s a good thing he started his journey extra early that morning, because, as far as we can tell, he walked most of the way down the trail, then all the way back up, and still somehow managed to get to the lodge only half an hour late. Frankly, we don’t understand how he got here, which is mainly because he didn’t understand how he got here. But by the time we’d shaken hands, it didn’t matter. Up we went to the lek, and Mark’s unflappable cheerfulness and excellent conversational skills ensured a good time for all.

We’re Keiran and Emily, the newest managers here at the reserve. Emily grew up on a farm in southwestern Virginia and as a child vowed to never have an outdoor job (which has since been broken many times over). Going into college, she wanted to be a pharmacist, but that quickly changed by the second semester when she decided to switch over to wildlife conservation. Throughout the rest of her time at Virginia Tech, she learned more about the nature she was surrounded by growing up, and decided it wasn’t so bad after all. Upon graduation, like most of our peers, she took seasonal jobs across the country in Oregon, Texas, Georgia, and Idaho before settling into a full time biologist position in West Virginia. After about 6 months, she got the wanderlust urge again and convinced me to apply for this position – not that I took much convincing. So here we are, now 5 months into our 9-month big journey. While we’re here Emily is most excited for the birds, but is also interested in the diversity of insects (excluding mosquitoes) and orchids, and is looking forward to experimental baking and reading.

I also grew up in Virginia, but on the coast. And, unlike Emily, I always knew I wanted to work outside, somehow. Sure, I spent my share of hours in front of computers and Gameboys playing video games – we all did. But I also ran around the woods barefoot and went frog-catching in the creeks with my friends. I even got scabies – a (marginally) nicer name for mange – as a child from spending too much time chasing fiddler crabs through the tidal mud. As time went on, other aspects of nature became more interesting – edible and medicinal plants and mushrooms, hunting and fishing, the relationship between natural living and health. Varied interests have led to varied work, from bat and honeybee research in Virginia to habitat restoration in the Great Basin to, now, nature reserve stewardship in the cloud forest. Living here, I’m most excited about learning a whole new set of fauna and flora, continuing to ferment various foods, experiencing what it’s really like to live off-grid, and taking advantage of the free, daily cold plunge that is the river in our front yard.

Emily and I have lived on the reserve for six weeks now. One might think that time would move slowly at an off-grid wilderness lodge. There’s no wifi, no TV, no trivia night. Frankly, though, we can hardly believe it’s already been this long. This place keeps you on your toes. There’s a lawn and trail system to keep up with, a house to clean and wax, an outhouse to renovate, bird surveys to do, a water system to maintain, plus hospitality duties when we have visitors. And of course somebody has to swim in that river and read all of these books in the reserve library, so that falls on us as well. It’s madness.

We often reflect on how strange our life is. We know exactly where our water comes from. In fact, about once per week, I find myself in my birthday suit under a frigid waterfall far above the lodge wrestling with a heavy rock wired to a hose. The next morning might find us examining multiple sets of puma tracks just out the back door, or maybe leading a tour for an intrepid DJ from Los Angeles named Mark (not a Brit, it turned out) to see a bird with about the silliest name one could imagine a bird to have.

Such is life here at Reserva las Tangaras. Come on by for a cinnamon roll or some fresh sourdough. We promise the water goes through a filter before it gets to the kitchen!