Day
Tours - $29.00US. Off Road, includes lunch,
hiking.
Tour: Charco
Bonito.
Breakfast
(not included ) and then
start your breath-taking hiking trip.
Lunch
will be served. Swimming at Charco Bonito.
Return
to ranch for your waterfront Dinner (not included),
campfire, dancing, and swimming.
(Then
bed down at your waterfront campsite, or in your own
private room.(not included ).
In
Search of Charco Bonito
The
magic of the forest lies in its infinite promise of
discovery.
Above,
below, and all around, one’s senses are electrifiedby
this mysterious enclosed world.It was only 2 hours Ispent
in the Central Mountain forests near Bonao,Dominican
Republic, but I emerged exhausted due to acomplete
sensory overload.
We set off in search of Charco Bonito, a waterfall in thethickly forested valleys beyond Los Quemados.Before anythingelse, we had to negotiate the crossing of the wide, fast
flowingRio Yuna.Although
the water only reached up to mykneecaps, its deceptive currents made me sway like a
staggering drunk, much to the mirth of some kids on the bank.So with dignity slightly impaired, we began to step steeply into the
forest.
As climates go,
few are as hospitable year round as this one.
Every crop, fruit
and root worth growing simply thrives here.
As a result the mountain absorbs you with the sweet fragrance
of life; fruits maturing and flowers blossoming.Birds and insects growheady feasting on fallen pods of cacao.While walking we areable to gather succulent guava or chinola fruit almost
bursting thebranches with their goodness.Although the sun is directly above the canopy, the dewy leaves keep us constantly refreshed
aswe brush against them.
For a good 20 minutes we can hear the churning of Charco
Bonito in the distance, yet its location is so well concealed
one could easilymiss it.Through
ever thickening vegetation we are drawn frantically like starving children towards the water source.And when wearrive no one is disappointed.Charco Bonito turns out to lie in awonderful clandestine glade, an enchanting respite from the
claustrophobiaof the forest.
Day Tours - $29.00US.
Off Road, includes lunch, bike.
Tour:El Chorro
Breakfast ( not included )
and then start your breath-taking off-road biking trip to El Chorro (this track
includes crossing this river 14 times!).
You will have plenty of time to stop, have your lunch and take many
dips. Then continue to the town of Bonao. Tour our city of Bonao, and then head
back to the ranch for, volleyball, and campfire.
Lunch will be served. Swimming at El
Chorro.
Return to ranch for your waterfront Dinner ( not included ), campfire,
dancing, and swimming.
(Then bed down at your waterfront campsite, or in
your own private room. (not included)
Day Tours - $29.00US. Off Road, includes lunch, hiking.
Breakfast (not included) and then start your
breath-taking tour to many country Villages,
you jump on your bikes and off-you go on your adventure.
In true Dominican style, community
life in and around these villages unfolds out on the street. This gives the
strange passing foreigner a rare privilege of seeing and joining in the timeless
pastimes of the campo, such as the drying of coffee and cacao out on the
doorstep.
Return to ranch for your waterfront Dinner (not included), campfire,
dancing, and swimming.
(Then bed down at your waterfront campsite, or in
your own private room. (not included)
Day
Tours - $39.00US. Off Road, includes lunch, hiking.
Tour:Village of the Dam
Breakfast (not included) and then
start your breath-taking tour to the Village
of the Dam you jump into the jeep
and off-you go up our road to the village of the dams. You then start your
hiking to adventure.
Return
to ranch for your waterfront Dinner (not included), campfire, dancing, and
swimming.
(Then bed down at your waterfront campsite, or in
your own private room. (not included)
The dramatic views along this
stretch will be inspiring, as we wind our way along the range before plunging
down to our river destination. You will
have plenty of time to stop, have your lunch and take many dips. Then head back
to the ranch for, volleyball, water front dinner (not included ) and
campfire.
Wild
Times in the Village of the Dam
Exploring
the Dominican Campo
Dams
so fine you'd think Mother Nature made 'em
A
wise sage once remarked that it was better to
travel than to arrive. This thought held me as I
set off on a trek to a trio of man-made dams
around Rio Blanco, a mountain village near Bonao,
for I had never felt the romance of dam-spotting.
The road up to Rio Blanco was full of weird and
wonderful distractions, just as well because the
grueling two-hour hike made my legs feel like
they’d been fed through a rolling machine.
Precious little traffic allows me to appreciate
the hummingbirds busy at work in the morning
shade, and to enjoy the dazzling surroundings.
A
conveyor belt of local characters drift past me in
all manner of guises and thrift store clothes. A
little blonde albino girl cutting guavas with a
machete. A pair of wild-eyed identical twins with
barely a tooth between them. A skinny gentleman
whose dangling pipe and candy striped jacket give
him the strange air of an extra from a British
seaside movie. It’s all very exhilarating until
I’m stopped by a woman with short curly hair and
a steady neurotic stare. We exchange a few
pleasantries then she starts to play with me.
“I had a few problems with a boy once… I
smashed him up with a stick….. do you think
that’s bad?”
“Well….
I don’t really know the reasons why you did
it..”
“So
I could crush him up and drink him like fruit
juice”
Terrified
I bound on trying not to look like I’m running,
hoping for some sign of human life around the
corner.
For
much of the time though it is head down and grit
out the steeply zigzagging trail. Around every
scenic corner in the road a new waterfall appears
giving me refreshment and willpower to plough on.
I collapse ungracefully upon finally reaching the
center of Blanco, ready to be swept away by the
broom of a local housemaid.
In true Dominican style, community life in and
around Blanco unfolds out on the street. This
gives the strange passing foreigner a rare
privilege of seeing and joining in the timeless
pastimes of the campo, such as the drying of
coffee and cacao out on the doorstep.
The innate friendliness of the locals will soon
shine through their initial surprise at seeing a
stranger in this little visited area. It is
enchanting to see little brown bodies splashing
and laughing under roadside waterfalls. Or to
receive a wave from beautifully preserved old man
rocking away on the porch of his powder blue
wooden shack.
The
pastel colors of the houses and the vibrant
wildflowers perfectly compliment the deep green
backdrop. Indeed the landscape appears largely
unaffected by the introduction of the dams fifteen
years ago. An old timer, Heladio, accompanies me
for the final stretch, and explains that before
construction began, the road to from here to Bonao
was a mere mule trail. A 77 year old farmer, he
recalls how the French owned dams have brought
more commerce to the region, as well as creating
jobs for the local people.
The three
dams turn out to be strikingly different in
character. Of course it is impressive how such an
ambitious project was undertaken in an area of
such awkward accessibility. But what surprised me
more was the physical beauty of the reservoirs.
Standing atop Presa Arroyón and gazing into the
emerald waters of the flooded valley, I felt that
the view rivaled any of Mother Nature’s work in
the Dominican Republic. To arrive here, though
jaded and delirious after hours of strenuous
walking, was just as rewarding as the journey.
I walked
back with Heladio and told him how happy and
surprised I was to find the dams to be so
picturesque. Whether he thought I was crazy or
not, his knowing smile put me at peace. In front
of us a small boy was trying with difficulty to
shepherd a pair of piglets. A scene of delightful
rural serenity. “My great grandson”, murmured
Heladio, beaming at the boy. It could easily have
been him, seventy years previously, or a moment
from countless generations before that. I hitched
a ride with a choking truck back to Bonao,
although it might as well have been a time machine
taking me back into the twenty first century.
.
2 Days, 1 nights - Off Road
Price $ 79.00US per person,
includes camping site, tent, breakfast, lunch, and evening meal, and guide.
Breakfast then start on your 2day tour to the Taino cave, there you will
camp out at the cave.
The Taino Indians were the original inhabitants of the Dominican
Republic.
VISIONS
OF QUISQUEYA
It
first struck me as I gazed from the window of the plane. The island below, small
and innocuous on the in-flight map, immediately came alive with the sharp
contours of her mountainous terrain. Little huts and smallholdings, daubed in
exotic shades of blue and pink, appeared like tiny pinheads on a map - and I
felt a rush of excitement that this island still belonged to nature. In that
split second a craving for adventure was instilled - I could not wait to plunge
into the mysteries of those jagged emerald ridges and the plummeting gorges,
almost black in the shadows. The stately name of "Dominican Republic"
seemed a little inappropriate to describe what I saw. This imposing sight was
more evocative of Quisqueya, the name by which the Taino Indians had
known the island before the Spanish took it from them.
Seizing
my first chance to get off the highway, I found myself in the sparse Cordillera
Central west of Bonao. I had literally reached the end of the road - the
last hurricane had torn it away to leave a knife-edge precipice. From there a
mule track led us up into the hills. We were in search of a cave several hours
away containing Taino art.
To
begin with we ascended a zigzagging trail through shaded pine forest. To breathe
the delicious fragrance of these altitudes is like stepping into a different
world from the musky aromas of the tropical maritime climate of the coast. Pine,
orange, limoncillo, and eucalyptus - it’s a heady cocktail and one that I took
in until my lungs were ready to burst.
Once you
get to above 2500 meters, the temperature is either hot or cold, with little
midground. During our ascent onto the ridge, the cloudy skies favored us, but on
arriving at the top the prickly heat of the sun made itself known. The
mid-morning sun fell gloriously upon the lost valleys.In the spring the leaves of the omnipresent Framboyan tree turn a deep,
vivid orange.Local belief has it
that this timely occurrence is to remind Christians of the blood shed by Jesus
Christ at this time.The effect is
a unique spectacle as the mountains are banded by floral stripes the color of
orange bell peppers.
So
the path rises and drops over one of those pristine emerald ridges i’d seen
from the window of the plane.I
learned later that going up is the easy part, so it pays to drink up the
endless mountain vistas while you can.Breaking
the piercing silence, my companion began recounting the myths that the people of
the area still adhere to.About the
benevolent and malevolent Indian spirits who roam the hills.Precious little must have changed since this area was first settled more
than five hundred years ago by desperate Tainos fleeing the bitter backlash of
Columbus’ initially peaceful overtures.World
and Dominican history has traditionally made it understood that the Tainos were
all but exterminated by brutal repression.However, in recent years, genetic tests have showed that the number of
those who resisted the genocide was much higher than earlier thought.No Spaniard in his right mind would have followed the runaways into these
parts.So it was that runaway
communities made this difficult terrain there new home, farming the steep slopes
in their timeless way.For a group
supposedly extinct 100 years after the discovery of Hispaniola, their influence
remains a profound and proud one on the language, culture and identity of
Dominicans today.
We
arrive drained at the cave, a strange and giant boulder that juts out of the
mountainside in a worrying insecure fashion.On the vast shadowed flipside are some impressive carvings in remarkable
condition.Taino art styles
have become a particular favorite of mine.Known for their communal use of hallucinogenic plants, the Taino artists
were clearly more into impressionism than realism.The favorite subjects here is the head, with a kaleidoscope
of facial expressions from deeply tortured to deeply narcotized.
And
onwards the mountain trails lead, crossing streams and winding through valleys.It would be a nice place to camp.But
we decided, with leaden legs and empty stomachs, to head back to Blanco.
Going
down was another story.A battle
not to slip on your ass along trails littered with dry, loose gravel.Comedy tumbles are frequent, with arms searching for balance in an exaggerated
windmill style.At times it is
pretty edgy, those dark shadows beneath seem to have no definite end to them.Bringing a rather black sense of humor to our plight, my
companion leads us past a gravestone poised dramatically on a cliff edge at a
sharp corner of the trail.
“A man riding home drunk one night... he never made it,” my guide
informs.Awed by this image of the
mountain taking the life of the drunken horseman I fall into silent reverence
for the rest of the descent.
These
remote hills remain an untouched monument, a ghostly museum of the Taino race.For us today it is peaceful - the pleasing whisper of the long grass and
the hush of distant waterfalls desperately crashing to the valley floor.But close your eyes and it is easy to see this place strike an eerie
terror into the heart on a less welcoming day.
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