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{ August 15, 2002 } Next >>
The Poas Volcano.
A winding country road snakes through coffee plantations, pastures, groves of pines, bamboo, and lush vegetation. Cars park alongside it like beads on a string, and families relax on the alpine grass, admiring the view of San José, Alajuela and Heredia far beyond. The road gradually climbs gentle slopes that fold around the summit like a robe of green silk, fit for a monarch. The plantations give way to forests, which in turn give way to the alpine vegetation of higher altitudes.
When we abandon the car, a crisp breeze chills us, and we’re forced to use warm clothes, that Juanma had brought for us. He expected the temperature to be cool, between 10 and 15 degrees Celsius, and was prepared. Our elevation is 2704 meters above sea level (more than 8000 ft). The rarified air makes us pant for breath as we hike along a brick path from the car to the summit.
We are filled with awe as we see how high we are. Empty space hides behind the crest of the last hillock. As we reach it we see an enormous crater a kilometer and a half across and 300 meters deep. Behind it, an older summit rises majestically, the form of an earlier crater barely showing on its side through the vegetation. In the foreground is an impressive vertical drop to emptiness. At the bottom of the crater is a fuming lake of milky green water. Its sulfurous vents issue an acidic white steam. The crater itself is bright white with streaks of brown basalt and specks of black. Piles of ash and debris fill the bottom, and steep cliffs surround the lake. A sign tells us that, if it were not hidden by clouds, we could see the Atlantic ocean.
Juanma, Maria and I take turns taking pictures of us, as if we had just reached the summit of a Himalayan peak.
A sign forbids us to go down into the crater. ¿But who would be so insane to do it? We would soon see. Two park rangers run swiftly along the rim, though the massive size of the crater makes them seem to be barely moving. Apparently a few tourists hadn’t heeded the sign and had already reached the farther side of the crater, and had disappeared into the vegetation.
We then hear a deep rumble. It seems the volcano is very much alive. An enormous plume of gas rises from a vent on the shore of the lake.
After a while we hike up a dirt trail to the Botos lagoon. The trail soon becomes a tunnel through a dwarf cloud forest, with curiously twisted trees with shapes reminiscent of gothic architecture. The beauty of the forest is primitive and could easily evoke fear, if one were caught in it during a thunderstorm. At the end of the tunnel of trunks and branches we found the lagoon, a clear pool of transparent water, an idyllic setting.
But soon, a veil of fog swiftly sweeps over the surface, and obscures our view. On our way back, we explore a side trail that offers a different view of the main crater, now barely visible behind a blanket of fog. On our way back, a hummingbird flits by, its feathers sparkling green and red.
We have lunch at a Costa Rican restaurant on the mountainside, and return to San Jose, completely relaxed and uplifted from the visit to the uneasy giant, Poas.
This site has pictures of the crater and lagoons on a clear day:
http://volcano.und.nodak.edu/vwdocs/volc_images/north_america/costa_rica/new_poas.html