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A Paria River Trout

4/30/2016

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“Where did it go?”​

Searching through the ankle-deep caramel colored water of the Paria River, Grant and Ethan briefly see the trout’s dorsal fin break above the surface only to disappear in a quick flick of the tail.  “There it is!”  The boys frantically slosh across the barely submerged muddy floor, as Grant dips his hands to sweep a small section of the Paria in wide arcs.  “Nothing.”  Looking around and then looking at us, the boys are mystified that the trout as eluded them in such a shallow, open space.  As the last bit of sun blazes across the red sandstone of Lee’s Ferry at the beginning of the Grand Canyon, we turn towards our camper and thoughts of dinner.  The following morning, Amy and I paused our run at a small bridge upstream to stretch and as we looked down, we happened to see the trout half-beached on a sand bank having made only 50 more yards of its exhausted journey upstream.  

Looking down at the trout, I was struck by opposing thoughts.  It is commonly known that, with much variation, the culminating act of a trout’s life cycle is swimming upstream to spawn in the same river it hatched (after all, trout are in the same family of salmon).  In truth, though, only around 70-80% of salmon return to the stream of their birth as a certain smaller percentage wander to new and different streams.  For the various species of salmon to remain healthy and viable, there needs to be this split: the majority returning to the familiar and a smaller percentage heading off to explore different locations and colonize different streams.  This not only adds to genetic diversity with cross-breeding but also protects the species in case something catastrophic happens to the ‘mother stream’.  In this way, salmon re-colonized streams after the last major ice-age, slowly migrating back north, for example, into British Columbia and Alaska.  Likewise, though, this also protects the species from the opposite catastrophe of fruitless and errant wanderings as not every stream nor river is habitable and navigable, so it is vital for the majority of the species to return to proven breeding grounds.  Thinking of it this way, evolution found this balance as species focusing too much on either extreme probably ran into some type of ‘extinction event’ that proved to be, literally, a dead end.

In the Paria River, the trout’s instincts drove it relentlessly upstream even when it is clear that this was not a viable choice.  But this trout’s actions were vital and necessary for the species as a whole even if this individual reached one of those ‘dead ends’.  While seeing waste and necessity and the stark oppositions of death and survival, more importantly I am left with the powerful feeling of glimpsing the vibrant thriving of life.
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Memories of Nicaragua

4/25/2016

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Arriving at 3AM is perhaps not the best way to begin a home stay with a family, but greeted with smiles and yawns at Casa Susana, we grabbed our bags, walked into our host family’s house, and our trip to Nicaragua officially started.  Ryan, the boys, and I were all eager to learn Spanish and starting our trip to Nicaragua with a two week language course in San Juan Del Sur (SJDS) helped make the following nine weeks in Central America a fantastic experience for the whole family.  It was very reassuring and convenient to have four people collaborating together when trying to bargain with a taxi driver, order food, rent surfboards, pay a bill, or just simply trying to chat up with anyone interested in having a conversation with us. While we certainly made the most progress learning Spanish while taking the course, I am happy to say we continued to learn and build off of our foundation throughout the rest of our trip.  What made that possible was the the continual positive enthusiasm and energy we received from the Nicaraguans who just seemed so appreciative and happy that we were giving it a go speaking their language.  Grant and Ethan were especially willing to jump into conversations with fellow children, grandparents and anyone in between.  The warm reception from all the Nicaraguans we met as well as being willing to make mistakes (or maybe just being completely ignorant of our mistakes) helped us make continued progress and feel like we were a part of the community.  ​
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Once our Spanish classes were complete and we had explored several different surf breaks in the SJDS area (check out Ethan’s blog for a great recap and photo display of different surf locations there), we headed to the sleepy surf village of Popoyo located a few hours drive north of SJDS.  A couple of months earlier we had signed off on a two bedroom bungalow rental for a month and to be brutally truthful and honest, at the end of our fourth day, I was seriously wondering if we had mage a ginormous mistake.  While we were strategically located on Guasacaste Beach, truly one of the most beautiful and unpopulated beaches I have visited to date, we had no idea about the wind factor we would have to face on a daily basis, or better known in Spanish as el viento.  Or shall I say EL VIENTO?!!!  The day we arrived in Popoyo, the wind was howling with some serious velocity and there was no indication that it was going to let up at all.  Our goal was to make this a time dedicated to surfing, but the break located right outside of our bungalow apparently did not “work” when the wind was on, and so the next closet break was over a mile down the beach.  Did I mention that we did not have a car?   Oh, and that we also had to cross a river which at high tide was overhead?  In true form and ultimate Ryan Carey style, none of these were show stoppers, so we loaded bottles of water, SPF, camera, and batiks into a backpack, grabbed our boards, and started our daily walks to the break.   

Well, you can only imagine how easy that was when the wind was blowing gusts up to 30 miles per hour.  I promise I am not exaggerating.  Ethan and I would pair up in train style formation holding our surfboards on either side of our body while Ryan and Grant braved the wind individually in front of us.  I quickly taught Ethan the “The Ants go Marching” song so we could walk in unison on the road as the beach proved impossible to walk on due to the vast open space for the wind to become even more intense and relentless.  I am sure we looked hilarious to anyone who happened to be watching, but with not much else to do and home school work completed, we marched along the windy, dirt road determined to get to the surf.  Considering it was extremely hot in our little bungalow during the middle of the day, we really didn’t have much to lose.


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Dripping with sweat, covered with an interesting mix of sand adhered to sticky SPF, and combatting the gale force winds, I did wonder what we had gotten ourselves into and how I was personally going to survive the next three and a half weeks.  It would take us a good 45 minutes to get to the break, and then you actually have to also figure out how to surf at a new break.  Is it best to surf at high, low, incoming or outgoing tide?  When are the least amount of people on the break?  Does swell direction make a difference?  Invariably, the sun would be going down by the time we started our walk home which most likely meant we would be walking home in the complete dark….  

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But at the same time, there were some pretty amazing things happening which started to make my heart grow fond for this cozy little surf town.  With a little effort, we found a few breaks of differing sizes and strengths which allowed all of us to have a great time catching some very fun waves!  We also quickly discovered a muy tranquilo surf shack located on the small cliff above Popoyo’s main surf break which provided not only shade and protection from the wind, but cozy hammocks and the most deliciously cooling and tasty fruit shakes you could possibly imagine. The wind was a little less crazy in the evening and blowing in the right direction when we began our walk home, so we could walk along the beach and watch the sun gracefully and gradually sink into the Pacific Ocean.  Some faces became friendly and familiar to us as we got to know a local artist Julio trying to sell his crafts or Sheila and her family who helped us with our Spanish when not running their guest house and eatery.  On that note, we allowed ourselves to dine out one meal a day (the best call ever), and would enjoying stopping at a little shack/restaurant along the way home to order some fresh fish tacos or pizza.  

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While it would be dark when we left the restaurant, we would finish the rest of our walk home completely surrounded by millions of brilliant stars overhead and were also lucky enough to see several sea turtles making their way up the beach to lay eggs despite it being the low season for this process. But perhaps our all-time favorite discovery during these few weeks was the brilliant display of bioluminescence discovered during our walks home at night.  What started off as just a few glowing specks turned into tidal pools completely full of bioluminescence showing off their magnificence as soon as our feet made contact.  “We have the universe of stars both above and below us…..this is WONDERFUL!” Ethan sang out as we walked and splashed our way home through the twinkling of lights in all directions.  Popoyo slowly but surely became a piece of heaven for us, every day as magical if not better than the one before.  My original concerns were completely eradicated and Popoyo felt like home by the end of our month rental.  While we were reluctant to leave our little bungalow, especially after some amazing field trips around the area, we reassured ourselves by making reservations at another guest house located much closer to the beach break so that we could happily return to our new favorite town after our much anticipated trip to Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula. ​
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