Costa Rica Rainforests - Cruising the Canopy in Costa Rica

Costa Rica’s Rainforest Aerial Tram takes travelers on unforgettable ride

“Look! Can you see it?” exclaimed Julio Rivera, our guide, as he pointed excitedly at a tiny white bat hanging nonchalantly from the underside of an enormous leaf. For a moment, as I leaned out over the railing and struggled in vain to focus my camera on this elusive canopy-dweller, I forgot that I too was dangling precariously dozens of meters above the forest floor.

We were riding the Rain Forest Aerial Tram in the highlands of central Costa Rica. Six of us - five passengers plus Julio - sat comfortably in an open gondola gliding silently through a Tarzan-like world of ropy vines and mysterious plants that looked as though they had been imported from another planet.

The Rain Forest Tram was the brainchild of Dr. Donald Perry, an American biologist who has dedicated most of his career to studying life in the rain forest canopy. Since opening in 1994, the aerial tram’s 16 cars suspended from a moving steel cable have been taking riders on an unforgettable journey through one of the earth’s most complex and least-visited ecosystems.

As a graduate student in the early 1970s, Donald Perry realized that little was known about the forest canopy because most researchers were confined to studying it from the ground. He went on to pioneer a system of ropes, pulleys, and a radio-controlled platform that allowed him to move freely through the treetops. This successful “canopy web” led Perry to the idea of building an aerial tram that would allow him to share his discoveries and concerns about rain-forest destruction with the public.

His ambitious project took two years to complete. A privately owned reserve bordering Braulio Carillo National Park was chosen for the tram. Trees were carefully uprooted using ropes, and helicopters lowered the converted ski lift’s 12 towers into place. A cable over 2.6 kilometers long was then strung through the canopy, causing minimal damage to surrounding vegetation.

The first leg of our journey took us through lower levels of the canopy, which begins at about 10 meters above the forest floor and extends beyond the height of a 17-storey building. As we passed within arms’ reach of the jungle greenery, Julio warned us not to touch tree trunks or leaves which might harbor camouflaged scorpions, poisonous spiders and vipers. A hanging garden of shaggy mosses, brilliant orchids, and other rootless “air plants” engulfed us. Our nostrils tingled with unfamiliar perfumes as we climbed into the treetops.

The canopy houses two-thirds of the jungle’s plants and animals, and Julio astounded us with his ability to spot birds, insects and exotic flowers invisible to uninitiated eyes. However, the rain forest itself proved to be the main attraction, and a sense of awe settled over our small group as the forest’s vastness and primordial silence slowly unfolded around us.

On its return, the tram skimmed the canopy’s topmost layer, treating us to panoramic views. Giant ferns and palms reached up from breaks in the undergrowth, and iridescent blue morpho butterflies fluttered beneath us. In the distance we could see misty volcanic peaks and aptly nicknamed “broccoli trees” rising from the undulating jungle skyline which seemed to go on forever.

After our 80-minute aerial adventure, Julio led us on a hike along the forest floor. Only one one-hundredth of the sunlight striking the upper canopy filters down to this eerie nether region. But it is full of hidden surprises, and we were admonished not to stray off the beaten track.

At the trail entrance, we stopped to examine a rotting stump guarded by an army of giant biting ants. Farther along, we ducked under a tilting monkey ladder tree which, Julio claimed, yields a substance used to cure ulcers.

Nearby towered a “walking palm,” a plant that can creep up to eight inches per year on its stilt-like roots in search of elusive sunlight.

Julio then spied a group of peccaries foraging in dense brush. Pointing gleefully at their shadowy forms, he whispered that we were very lucky to encounter these timid wild pigs since over-hunting has made them a rare sight.

Suddenly, leaving his own good advice behind, Julio leaped from the trail and made a beeline for what turned out to be a furry, coffee-colored tarantula as big as a saucer, gingerly making its way along the forest floor. To our astonishment, Julio attempted to catch this venomous spider with his bare hands. The agile creature resisted Julio’s gentle overtures at first, but our persistent guide eventually enticed it to climb aboard his open palms.

Julio beamed lovingly at his motionless trophy and held it up for examination, assuring us that tarantulas only bite when they feel threatened. Witnessing this poignant scene of trust between man and beast, I couldn’t help but wish that all of nature was in such good hands.

Author: John Mitchell