I hope that's not a jaguar!

So as you might have guessed from my last blog, no one wanted to go hiking through the jungle with Sean. Well, the first one really wasn't the jungle. In fact, Metropolitan Natural Park is just north of Panama City. I got a late start that Saturday afternoon because Stephen and Phil wanted to see the University of Panama. Why, I don't know; and more to the point, why I went with them I still don't know. I guess I figured one of them might join me in my park adventure and I went to the University as a good will gesture. We wound up walking WAY too much even making our way back to the ambassador's house. Now I've been there twice, but only once on purpose. We finally (after some help from varying locals) made it to the University campus and just walked around looking at all the buildings. Really not much to speak of. I wouldn't include it in a tour if you ever make it to Panama City.

Afterwards, we decided to indulge Phil's appetite for Indian food. He was looking for some restaurant in his Lonely Planet travel guide. Turns out the restaurant moved a few years ago; about the same time Phil's book was printed. We only happened upon the place after we had already given up on finding it. But trust me, we looked and looked and looked far longer and walking far further than I wanted to. We also just missed getting drenched. No joke, you could literally see the wall of rain pouring down 100 yards away, but we were lucky enough not to bare the brunt of it.

Once we finished our meal, which was nothing much to speak of, Phil and Stephen headed off in one direction and I in the other. I cost me four bucks to get into Metropolitan Natural Park and then another buck fifty to purchase a trail map which was completely unnecessary. Although, the map shows five different trails, it's really just three. And unless you're a slow mover you can finish the trails much sooner than the map suggests. The main draw for me, and the only reason I might suggest you go there, is the magnificent views of the city that two of the three trails provide. I wouldn't even bother with the Momotides trail unless you just have time to kill and want to extend your stay. I saw a few birds and an animal the Panamanians call the “painted rabbit”. My description won't do it justice, but it kinda looks like a rat, only brown, about the size of a cat, and not much tail to speak of.....something like that.

The ferocious Painted Rabbit!

As I was finishing the second trail I walked up on a man and two women working with a long black net. I couldn't help but ask what they were up to. One of the girls said that they were biology students at the university and were studying bats. “Bats?!” I said, my mind still filled with the memories of living with such a bothersome creature in my bedroom for the past six weeks. I started to tell them they need not stretch out their net there, just go to my house. But, I didn't feel like re-telling the whole tale and they seemed busy with their work, so I continued on my way.

The next day I got up early, fixed my pancakes at the hostel and headed out for Soberania National Park. I took a taxi, but the driver took me to the Metropolitan Park instead. Once there, he called someone to try to find out where the National Park was. After that didn't work he asked a security guard if he knew the way. This sounds somewhat ridiculous considering Soberania National Park is massive, covering 48,000 acres and is seriously only about 20 minutes away. However, several taxi drivers don't know where anything is in Panama; you just have to keep asking until you find one that does. The whole mess could've been avoided had I taken a couple of Diablo Rojos, but I wasn't sure how to get there and I wanted to get there quickly. For future reference, just take a bus towards Gamboa until you get to Soberania on the left.

I paid five bucks to enter the park, which was also completely unnecessary. I feel better if I think of it as a donation to keep the park up and running for future generations. Anyway, I spoke with the woman at the park headquarters for probably 30 minutes about where I intended to go after studying the map she handed me. She was very concerned that I was alone and suggested just one trail which I of course agreed to take, having no intention of following her advice. She could apparently see this on my face and pretty much said “You're going over here, aren't you?” I said “Yeah, probably.” She wrote my name and phone number down and then gave me three different numbers to call if I needed anything. She kept telling me I needed a guide, but there wasn't one on Sundays and it's easy to get lost and it will take me 6 or 7 hours to do that trail and blah blah blah..... I just asked if the trails were marked, she said they were, so off I went. That being said, if you go to Soberania National Park, there are a few things you should do. I speak from experience. Do go with someone else. Do wear long pants. Do wear hiking boots – tall ones – up to your knees if you've got em. Do take rain gear AND an umbrella. Do take water and food. Do go in the DRY season.

I caught a Diablo Rojo after walking towards Chilibre to the entrance of the Las Cruces trail. The trail map says that this particular trail is “difficult”. Some of you know that I like to hike. I've been all over Mountain Lake, the Appalachian Trail, several trails off the Blue Ridge Parkway, trails in Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee and even a four day hike through the Andes in Peru to Machu Pichu. This trail was not difficult. It was treacherous. Dangerous at times. Thirty seconds in I realized I was in the jungle and a few seconds later I heard a grunting sound and what seemed like an elephant running through the woods. After I had calmed myself, I decided it must have been a boar. It occurred to me just then that there are four different kinds of wild cats in Soberania. None of which are often seen, but I'm feelin' lucky. My shoes were drenched after just a few moments. Note that October is NOT the dry season and there was just a tad bit of mud on the trail. I've never been to Vietnam, but I can see why the U.S. Government trained its soldiers in the jungles of Panama in preparation. One, just to acclimate to the many sounds emanating from the forest. Birds flying right up in front of me nearly taking my breath away, the little painted rabbits running around and monkeys that sound too much like wolves. At one point I thought a jaguar was gonna jump out and attack before I realized the large thuds around me were just the monkeys in the tree tops above knocking food down to the ground. Not to mention the “trail” was often times a creek bed or a very narrow, muddy, rocky, crevice. More than once I said “this can't be right. Are you serious? This can't be a trail.” If it weren't for the moldy little plastic strips tied around a tree every so often I'd would've sworn I was just walking around the jungle. Several times I wished I had brought a machete. After an hour or so, I came upon a small challenge. There was a river cutting my trail in two. Not a nice little creek or stream - “Oh how nice.” A fricking river. I seriously said out loud “What the !*#$? How the %#!* am I supposed to get across this?!!” I knew I wasn't going back the way I came through all the mud and water and weeds. It took me about 15 or 20 minutes to make my way up stream, find a place where I could jump across a six foot section of river onto a large rock and pray that I wouldn't slip and fall in and be swept away by the current.

The little creek I had to cross. You can see the trail on the other side.

Yes, this is the trail....nuff said.

I should´ve worn boots.

Believe it or not this was the good section.

It took me about another hour before I made it to the point where the Las Cruces trail intersects with the Plantation Road trail. At which point, I promptly thanked God for answering my prayers of not being eaten by a giant cat, drowning, or losing myself in the Panamanian jungle. More prayers were to follow. Once I made it to the Plantation Road trail I thought I had it made. But more fun was on the way! Oh joy! Once again much of the trail was like sloshing through a muddy creek bed. And then it started. In Panama we call it rain. In Virginia we would call it a horrendous, thunderous, tropical downpour of epic proportions. Imagine the heavens splitting apart and water falling down as if you were standing under a waterfall. I quickly retrieved my little Colombia rain jacket from my little orange backpack which provided significant cover from the elements......HA! Like using a cardboard box to defend yourself from a hurricane. I finally made it to the highway and walked another mile or so to the trail with the waterfall that the kind lady at the park headquarters had wanted me to take in the first place. I was stopped by a couple of police officers who no doubt were wondering what a soaking wet American was doing walking down the highway. I asked if the waterfall was ahead, we chatted for a few seconds and they were on their way. I made it onto the trail and once again came upon an impassible river crossing and this time, since it wasn't far into the hike and it was just a small loop trail anyway, I decided not to take my chances. I returned the way I came and went down a small path leading to the waterfall. To my surprise I found the two cops waiting with their dual sport motorcycle like it was a joke between friends. “Fancy seeing you here” kinda thing. I took my pictures of the unimpressive waterfall and began a conversation with the moto-cops. They too were surprised that I was hiking alone and asked me all kinds of questions; where was I from, what was I doing in Panama, why was I alone, did I have any food or water, and on and on. I took my torn, wet map from my jacket pocket and shared where I had been. They were again taken aback that I was traveling solo. Panama is more of a tight knit family kind of environment whereas Americans are more independent. Sometimes this cultural difference is quite apparent.

At one point I slipped and braced myself on a tree like this one. Yes it hurt and yes I had to pull the needles out of my hand. One went in and broke off. I had to dig it out with a knife once I got back to the hostel.

I started back to the park entrance and must have walked at least two miles before I finally waived a taxi down. Even though it was a five minute ride, the driver wouldn't let me pay. He said he was going that way anyway and I guess took pity on me considering my appearance. I'm surprised he even let me in the cab. My legs were covered in mud and I was literally dripping wet. I thanked him for the favor and almost stayed at the corner bus stop, but decided I should inform the woman at the park entrance that I had made it back in one piece. She genuinely seemed happy to see me, but commented on my appearance. She gave me a new trail map and showed me several pictures of different animals in the park and asked me about my journey. I told her I thought I had heard a boar, I saw several birds, howler monkeys, a couple of painted rabbits, a sloth, and lots and lots of ants – going great distances – like hundreds of yards with little green leaves. They don't actually eat the leaves, but eat the mold that grows on the leaves in their nest. Weird. We chatted for quite a while before I hopped on a Diablo Rojo. I had to pack and get ready for my last night in the city. After all, it was Halloween....