This morning I woke up prepared for the daily Sunday routine of chores and downtime. After spending the weekend climbing and rappelling a local falls, I was eager to spend part of my day reading A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in my hammock. As my eggs cooked and I cut the fresh avocado I would add to them, I got a text from Toni: “You want to hunt trees today?” it read. “But of course.” I replied as I quickly finished cooking my breakfast and depressed the grounds in the french press. I threw on my boots and wolfed down my food as I headed for the door. Thinking I was in for a mellow venture, I opted out on my backpack and with it my water bladder and all food items. I headed out the gate, followed by the mutt that always hangs around the organization and crossed the suspension bridge that accesses the river trail. As I made my way up the road between Sustainable Roots, dubbed “the gringo house”, and Toni’s farm I drank my coffee and shouted salutations to the resident cows. Upon my arrival, Toni was finishing her breakfast and in a moment, she was booted up and ready to go. We spent the next half hour or so roaming through her farm, checking in on everything as Toni described her long term plans for the property. After she showed me where some of the trees would be planted, we said goodbye to her husband Heladio and headed further up the road to our entrance into the jungle. During the walk, she showed me the location of her future biology program for the youth of Canton Quijos, the county in which Cosanga is located. The house that she pointed out is part of a community foundation that owns approximately four-hundred hectares of jungle in the near vicinity. Across the road from the house was the beginning of a path that lead to their land and a forest shack that the foundation had built. We turned onto this path and began our journey up the bed of the Chontas river. We passed a couple skittish horses, entered the true jungle and started criss-crossing up the river itself. Soon I found that the boots I had opted for this morning were not going to do the job. As we ventured deeper into the jungle, the river crossings became deeper and deeper, eventually I gave up trying to keep any semblance of dry feet and let the rushing waters flow up to my knees and fill my boots. Immediately a blister started rubbing raw against my woolen socks. I pushed on and no sooner had we left the river bed, we encountered a landslide. At first glance, the terrain seemed manageable but as soon as my leading step hit the soft earth, my entire calve disappeared in thick mud. Hearing the wet sounds of me struggling to pull my leg out of the sucking earth, Toni laughed and said, “Sinking up to your eyeballs, huh?”. Eventually I hauled myself to the safety of a log and we proceeded up the landslide, my eyes much more aware of where I was stepping. We exited the landslide and entered a drier portion of the forest. Toni then told me about the tree specie we were looking for. Sangre Drago (Dragon’s Blood), is used by locals as a medical assistant. When slashed with a machete, the tree releases a deep red sap that can staunch blood flow from wounds, treat gastrointestinal problems and relieve ulcers. She showed me a full grown tree and we spent a little while poking around the base, looking for sprouts that we could gather and take back to her property. Unfortunately, we found none and decided to try our luck further up the path. Not a quarter of a kilometer further we hit the jackpot and were surrounded by baby Sangre Dragos! Having only brought a bucket and one plastic bag, we decided to see if there was extra supplies further up the path at the foundations shack. We hiked further and upon reaching the structure, found about fifty planter bags already filled with dirt! Quickly, we fashioned a stretcher from plastic, wire and bamboo that we found laying around, loaded it up and headed back to gather the sprouts. At this point, my feet were so sodden and rubbing raw that I chose to fully remove my boots and continue on our journey barefoot. Navigating the tangled forest, laden with the stretcher, was quite difficult but eventually we arrived at the base of the mama Sangre Drago. Gently, we removed the saplings and transplanted them each into their own bag, ensuring that the delicate roots were unharmed in the process. Once this had been accomplished, we loaded up the stretcher and started the long trek back; down the mudslide, criss-crossing the river, stumbling over boulders and eventually reaching the road. Our babies intact, and smiles on our faces, we were exhausted from the trip. Eventually, we will transplant these saplings and let them grow for about a month. After this, they will be used in Toni’s reforestation project and on her own property. After we ate our gringo sandwiches (peanut butter and jelly), drinking plenty of water and resting our sore muscles, I made my way back to the Sustainable Roots house. For the rest of the afternoon, my body slowly came to the realization of how much work was just accomplished. Hard work that will not only better us as people but will benefit the future of this community. Muddy feet, good day.
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Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit, and as vital to our lives as water and good bread.- Edward Abbey Archives
March 2020
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