Volcan Poás

My last post from Costa Rica may read like an elegy, though I don't intend it to. The Poás volcano was hit by a 6.2-magnitude earthquake in early January, a couple of months after we visited. It was a disruptive event that killed about 60 people; most or all tourists were unharmed, but hundreds were trapped overnight when mudslides blocked the roads. I would still encourage everyone to visit as soon as they rebuild. The mountain is still there.

The drive takes you up and around switchbacks that seem to never end, with periodic descents into meadows. You are leaving a tropical zone where the humidity is like a wall crowding you in, and entering a lofty region where you imagine that perhaps it is customary to wear a hunting outfit. You might see pine needles for the first time since leaving home, or you might see a flock of goats.

You can stop at one of the restaurants near the summit, where lonely, very young men will serve you coffee and plate of rice and beans, and where you'd have a view all the way down to the city if it weren't for the fog. It is usually very wet inside the national park and they advise you to arrive very early if you want to see anything. Poás is billed as the most "accessible" active volcano in the world.

It's at 8600 feet, or roughly the elevation where aspens grow in Colorado. A map shows the Caribbean on the horizon.

Along the rim is a thicket of trees not much taller than people.

The Botos Lagoon, an extinct volcanic crater, is a short hike away.

The surrounding forest is a blend of exotic-seeming evergreens adapted to the altitude.

I can't finish without including a view from the La Paz Waterfall Gardens. It's a nearby hotel with a private nature preserve: You walk through a butterfly garden and serpentarium and then past a succession of waterfalls, each one of them, I'm assuming, more beautiful than the last. We stopped on the way back, thought about visiting and then balked at the entrance fee. There were reports that the hotel was destroyed in the earthquake. It turns out that there was no structural damage, but the information and donations site explains that an adjacent town, Cinchona, was the hardest hit.

This was taken across from the hotel parking lot; I can't identify these strange trees.