Two snakes and a crab. . .

Walk into a bar. . . OK, that's what it kind of sounds like, eh? That's just what Keneth and I saw the other day when we were cleaning out the pools.

There are three pools that are fed by a small waterfall. Once the top pool fills up, it fills up the middle one, which in turn then fills up the last one. There are caps on each of the pools, and we unscrew these caps to drain the pools and sweep out the leaves and other jungle detritus that inevitably ends up in the pools.

On this day, while I was cleaning out the middle pool, a small black snake slithered along in the water. I have no idea if it was venomous or not, but I'm a wuss. I avoided it (and I remember reading that baby snakes dump all their venom in the first bite as they don't know how to control it). A few minutes later, Keneth saw a snake up in his pool. Having a shovel, he dispatched of it quickly and it came washing down into the area I was working. Looked like the first, but this one was dead.

Then, as I was sweeping some leaves and muck out of a corner by a rock, a small crab grabbed ahold of the broom and I could actually hear its claws clicking and clacking. We moved it out of the pool into the stream that runs beside the pools.

All in all, an interesting time for wildlife down at the pools. Definitely could have done without the snakes, though.

STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE!

If you're reading this, then Jungle Journey is on strike. For those in the newspaper business, you will understand the friction/frustration of being in the editorial department and dealing with the photogs.

We have reached an impasse here at Jungle Journey, and while the editorial side has been more than accommodating, the art department has. . . well, it hasn't held up its share of the work load as far as pictures, particularly of the new construction of the two additional tree houses.

To be fair, there has been a lot going on, but the editorial department has kept chugging along, waiting and waiting for the art to catch up. Despite many impassioned pleas and good-faith bargaining, the only response has been unfit for publication in a family blog.

We hope to have the issue resolved soon. Donations to the strike fund may be made to: Jungle Journey, Editorial Department, Costa Rica.

Solidarity!!!!!!!

Aw, crud. . .

Three days ago, I was heading back from cleaning out the sheets and towels from tree house No. 3 and was heading to drop off some rubbish in the cans by the back end of the house.

As I was veering that way, a large, black snake shot down the rock wall and headed for the garbage cans and then slithered behind the house.

I don't even pretend to be brave when it comes to snakes. I have no idea if it was a venomous critter or not. I did manage to stifle my squeal and tell Darleen what I had just seen, so she wouldn't wander over that way for a while. The bag of rubbish sat on the porch for a few hours until I deemed it safe to trek that way (with machete in hand).

What the sam hill?

While clearing the road to the two new tree houses, there was a lot of cutting down brush, small trees and other stuff in the jungle. The next day, there was a rash that started to spread and itch pretty good. The ointment that we have for mosquito bites wasn't quite doing the trick, and the rash started to bubble up pretty good. Luckily for the two of you who read the blog, there won't be any pictures posted. (Lucy wouldn't take any, and since the worst was on my right hand, I couldn't work the camera to get a shot with my left hand.)

After a couple of visits to the pharmacy, where the folks scratched their heads and pondered aloud if I had been bitten by a spider, had a spider upchuck on me, wandered into poison ivy/oak/whatever else is down here, or had smooched with a monkey, I went to the most reliable medical source I know: my dad.

Get a steroid shot, I was told. We went back to the pharmacy and while I was ready to grin and bear it for the injection, Lucy peppered the folks with questions before I went into the back and got the shot of dexamethasone, which I believe is the correct spelling. I knew I had heard the name somewhere, and when we got home, I looked it up. Sure enough, it is used for high-altitude climbing to combat high-altitude sickness. I had never used it on my climbs, but others had.

The steroid worked just perfect (thanks dad!) and the swelling and everything went away, though my career in Major League Baseball and the Olympics is now in jeopardy.

Boa time. . .

The other day, two great guests from Oregon came back from a hike to the waterfall and were all excited about spotting a "moving branch" on their way to/from the waterfall. They took pictures and figured out that it was a boa constrictor. It was about 30 feet up in the tree and had a big bulge--most likely relaxing after a meal.

Boas are not venomous, for those who don't know, they just swallow critters and digest them. Personally, we have yet to run into one. Considering my phobia of snakes, this is probably a good thing. However, since I know that boas aren't going to come and chomp on me, I wouldn't mind seeing one. Any other snake, though, I'm off, running and screaming like a third-grader.

We're going to head down to the pools in the next day or so, and will hopefully be able to catch a glimpse of it.

Road work. . .

The first task, after we had marked off the spots in the jungle for the two new tree houses, was to clear a road through to both of them. It sounds easy, as far as plotting out the road, but when you can't see more than 5 feet in front of you because of the thick growth, it takes on a challenge.

Our first concern was cutting down as few trees as possible. This meant hiking back and forth, trying to get our bearings, and eliminating routes based on the trees and plant life in the area. We finally found two paths, one bit of shared road and then a longer stretch for the second tree house, and started clearing. No bulldozers or machinery, just machetes. We will haul out the chainsaw to cut down about three or four small- to mid-sized trees, but that's it.

Miguel, Kelly (one of the owners) and myself were able to hack out a rough path in about 2 hours with our machetes. Miguel, of course, led the way followed by Kelly and myself who could not match his pace, despite our best efforts.

A couple of times, the machete nearly flew out of my hands as it was the middle of the afternoon, around 95 degrees out, and the sweat was flowing. Luckily, I was able to hang onto it and just cut down brush and not a foot or other appendage.

After we finish up the clearing of the ground (need to go back and haul all the trimmings off into the jungle) comes the fun part of hauling in rock for the road. We'll start with larger rock to fill in some of the gullies. Then comes the medium-sized stuff for the base and finally the smaller rock to fill it all in. This will be done with a medium-sized truck where we will most likely have to shovel/throw the rock from the truck onto the ground and then spread it out. Will take probably around six or more loads of rock.

This needs to be finished by June 15 so Palomino and the builders can start right away on the construction of the two tree houses.

Time to build. . .

Now that we're back, we're going to be pretty busy the next few months. We're going to add two additional tree houses to the grounds, which will give us a total of five.

When I say we, I mean that in the sense that the owners and us will be overseeing the builders of the two tree houses. Those in the know understand that I am tool-challenged, but do enjoy the fine art of construction.

Palomino (the builder) and his four-man crew will start building around June 15. In preparation for the two new tree houses, Miguel and I and the owners have tromped through the jungle on the property several times searching for the right two spots.

The first time Miguel and I hiked back there, I thought it would be a good idea to take along some string to tie around trees in the areas that we liked. The one hitch? The only string we had was green. I challenge anyone (other than Miguel) to find green string in the middle of the rain forest/jungle. I sure as sam hill couldn't do it. The fact that it took Miguel about five minutes to find the string further illustrates the above point about my inability when it comes to tools/building, etc.

We're going to hopefully be taking pictures along the way so the masses of three or four can see the new tree houses being put up.

Back home. . .

Yes, we're back in Costa Rica, our new home for the foreseeable future. Will take a while to get used to that, we figure, but it's a good feeling. We're done traveling for the time being.

This last trip was enough, as we traversed around 18,500 air miles in three weeks, flying from Costa Rica to Miami to Buenos Aires, back to Miami, to L.A., to Fresno, then to Las Vegas, Madison, Wisconsin, and finally back to San Jose. We had planned on going to Spain, but the volcano in Iceland (I'm not even going to try to spell it) altered the plans.

It's nice to be back, and we think the pooches missed us. Or at least they slobbered enough on us when we came back.

The lag time in the posts was due to travel and general malaise after returning, but we hope to get some more up and running soon.

Slippahs vs. Crocs. . .

Since we have been living in Hawaii for the past nine years, Lucy and I have become used to wearing "slippahs" or flip-flops, sandals, etc., whatever you may call them back on the Mainland. We still have several pairs of slippahs that we wear regularly down here in Costa Rica. However, while great for coasting along the sidewalks of Waikiki and the beaches, they're not that great in the jungle.

Crocs have taken a beating in the past few years after the high-water mark of popularity subsided. However, those goofy-looking plastic clogs have their place around here, I have found.

Several times a week, I'm tasked with hiking around the grounds to check out the area and turn off lights. Slippahs tend to slip on the rock and gravel and in the jungle. Crocs, however, maintain a semblance of sturdiness while tromping along the jungle paths.

Never thought that I would own a pair of the clogs until my folks left a pair here by mistake. Maybe I'm getting old, but dang, they work well on the terrain around here.

The one downside? Big-time foot sweat. . . Not much air getting into the buggers, which makes it feel like you're scooting along in two little foot saunas. . .

Da birds. . .

OK, this isn't one of our pictures. Lucy can take a good picture of the hummingbirds, while I flail hopelessly with the autofocus and all the other bells and whistles on the camera, but will never able to take a picture like this.

We have a fair amount of the hummers here at Tree Houses. Right now, though, is the "tween" season for the birds, as the ones that hang out here are likely headed north and the ones that are down in South America are headed up this way for the spring and summer. We have a low number currently, perhaps around 12 to 15 on a regular basis, though that will change in a month or so. Currently, we have two feeders up for the hummingbirds (just sugar and water, nothing else is necessary) and we only fill up the feeders (which hold about 40-some ounces) once or twice a day. When it's high season, we're filling up the two feeders (and we add a third) four to five times a day, as the little buggers really suck up the juice.

Last week, there was a lad from the UK, and he was wearing a pinkish/salmon shirt with buttons. While he was standing by his table waiting for breakfast, a hummingbird came darting down and poked its beak into his button hole. To his credit, the lad didn't swat it away or run screaming (as some adults have) to the other end of the breakfast area, but hung out and got a close-up view of the critter.