Chirripo Pacifio huck fest

Todd Wells, Caterata La Perla

First Descent of La Perla,

La Perla is a 50 + foot drop that starts with a tricky slide into a 30 foot vertical drop. Todd and I had this gem in our sights for the last 3 weeks. We had been keeping ourselves busy with other adventures but today it was time to pluck this first descent. The drop is just a short hike up the hill from Casa Mariposa, (the hostel I have been home basing out of).  After scouting the beast one more time there was little hesitation in running such a magnificent drop.

The lip of the falls is rather ugly, there are two rock flakes most of the way down the slide portion of the drop. The rocks are unnervingly close to the sliver of water that I want to be on, and look as if they might launch you out of control. There was a distinct possibility of launching out flat, or on your head into the pool 30+ feet below. To make it more interesting the main flow rides up on a curler at the lip of the falls. The water then drives left into the nasty left rock flake. It is a pretty thin line at the top of a rather large drop.

At the top of the falls I felt unusually calm, I had a third of the butterflies in my belly that I was expecting. Once again I had a funny song in my head, this time Avril Lavigne's "Alice" was rolling through my head. I hopped in my boat, slapped the skirt on, and slid into the water. My pre big drop rituals are rather impromptu, today it was a extremely short lived wiggle warm up dance. Three strokes later my boat was right on line. I tossed in a quick correction stroke on the slide, and a second later I was rolling up in the pool with a huge grin.

Chris Baer, with big smile for La Perla

Ignorance is bliss, and it will make you hike some more in Costa Rica. I hadn't learned my lesson about the upper upper Chirripo Pacifico, as Todd and I continued down stream. Our attempt was to paddle down to the most upper paved bridge. As we headed down stream we encountered a married of ugly and painful drops. After bouncing off of a hundred rocks, we found a set of very marginal drops. A quick discussion led us to hiking out of the river valley. To our luck we were in the back yard of Casa Mariposa, a short walk brought us to base camp, and beers.

Once again, the Upper stretches of the Chirripo Pacifico have turned out to have great hike and huck potential, and a low tolerance for allowing any downstream movement out side of bouncing off of rocks.

First descent of Catarata Pacifica, 

Chris Baer, airborne, funnel, wheelie on Catarata Pacifica

The team had left, Ferdinand had clients to paddle with, Todd was going to spanish school, and this left me solo. I had been studying the water falls in the valley for the last 3 weeks, the valley was home. After all this time I had a calling, I wanted to run one more of the big drops. I knew that Catarata Cloud Bridge was runnable but it looked painful, and I never got a good view from the lip of Catarata Pacifica. So I set out for another hike, I wanted to get a really good look from the top of Catarata Pacifica. I stopped at the normal overlook, and peered down onto the drop. The lead in is rather intense from above, and I couldn't see a proper way to get to the lip of the falls. The embankment is all over hanging and full of lush vegetation. Upon further investigation I was able to wade down the river left side and get to some slippery rocks right at the lip of the beast. I was astounded, it looked.......ok?

I split the drop up into a few categories,

The lead in,
The river bed was made of bed rock, and had odd shaped eddys, and diagonal holes protecting the true lip of the falls.

The disconnects,
Upon rolling off the lip, the water disconnects for 15 feet, and then hits a small rock flake. It then disconnects again for another 15-20 feet before it gently reconnects with the bed rock a total of 40+ feet below the lip.

The funnel,
40 feet down the drop the rock starts to funnel together, the right wall is slightly overhanging and the left wall is the major issue. The drop at it's widest is 20 feet, the exit is 5 feet wide, the left wall does all of the funneling. The results of hitting the left side from 50+ feet above looked painful at best. Not only was the rock pinching together from side to side, but it was also ramping into the pool. This transition into the landing zone made me feel a little better, I knew I would have a half a second to try to control my angle.

The pool,
Looked ok, there was a deep boil rolling up 20 or so feet away from the base of the falls. There was also a relatively calm large pool on the left side to collect my wits in. The right side of the pool was moving fast off the next 6 foot drop, and also looked rather under cut. At this point it looked perfect, a 50/50 chance for a nice pool.

So as I mentioned before I was solo, no other boaters in sight, probable no other boaters within 100 miles. One of my major concerns about the drop was the lack of proper safety. I never like to count on non boaters to help set safety, but I didn't have any other choice. I turned to John Titan, (Casa Mariposa owner) he is in his mid 40s and constantly over active. John was going to be my safety, I didn't tell him much but I saw in his eyes he understood the possibilities. He was willing to dive into the water and drag me out if so needed. More then his willingness to set safety he had a gleaming light in his eye to watch the first descent of this glorious waterfall in his own backyard.

The day of descent was busy at Casa Mariposa, and it was just after noon before John and Jill where able to ditch there duties and join me at Pacifica. I was mentally prepared, I had gone through all the horrible possibilities in my head. After all the daunting thoughts, I still had the firm belief that I was going to get spat through the constriction at the bottom, with a huge smile.

Once again we had a crowd of onlookers, John was set up on a rock at the base of the falls with my camera in one hand and a throwbag in the other. I went through my final mental preparation and looked at the 5 foot gap 60 some odd feet below with a smile. I was about to make history one way or another. I looked up from the drop and gave John one loud blast out of my whistle, he looked around and got the thumbs up from the crowd, it was go time. I wondered back to my boat nervously slipped my spray skirt on and indexed my paddle. I shrugged my shoulders hummed my song and turned to face the most imposing drop of my life.

I cranked out a couple paddle strokes picking up some speed into the class 3 maze of back wash, eddy lines, laterals, and rock flakes that made up the entrance rapid. I was one move away from rolling off the lip, I was totally committed and right then a giant smile came on to my face. Right or wrong this was going to be one hell of a big ride. I drove up onto a rock on the right hand side inches before the lip, it slid me back to the left onto a pile of water that pushed me back right, and with a slight right draw stroke I leaned forward and started my descent.

I was instantly airborne, with square shoulders and head held high, I anticipated my next reconnect. Uggh, I reconnected with the rock. I was already 15 feet down, I managed another tiny correction stroke and once again was airborne. I cleared my eyes, I was 10 feet away from reconnecting the second time and I looked to the bottom of the drop, I was spot on line. As I reconnected the second time I drove my heals down to match the rock slide and lessen the impact. I was instantly brought up to warp speed, and could barely close me eyes in time to get shot through the funnel at the bottom.

I hadn't really thought about the impact into the pool, I knew the pool was deep, I knew I was going to be going really fast. I wasn't sure what was really going to happen as I got rocketed through a 5 foot gap from 60 feet above. What did happen was the wheelie of my life. I was staring at the clouds doing 40 mph through the pool. My paddle got ripped out of my left hand and so I reached down and swept the water with my bare hand keeping me vertical, and mildly stable. After traveling 30 feet staring at the sky the speed slowed and I leveled the boat back down. I was a couple feet away from the crowd, it wasn't till I smiled that the gaping jaws of the crowd lifted into a rejoining celebration.


Bumping my head,
For the last few years, I have been having rather entertaining Christmas days. Two years ago I tubed the Micos water fall run in Mexico. Last year I ran the biggest drop of my life, the 70ft middle Palguine. This year the plan was to get the second descent of the La Perla waterfall. As I stood above the 50 foot slide to vert, I was all smiles. John got himself positioned with the rope and camera, we exchanged head nods, and it was time to go.

I hoped in my boat, slid into the eddy, and peeled out. I was trying to recreate my line from a few days before. On the way down I got pushed a bit further left on the slide portion and got a little cork screw action in the air. I lifted my paddle to try to square up for impact, and CRACK. This time it wasn't the paddle that gave.

The bow of my boat slid into the water, the right blade of my paddle touched down on the surface, and my head followed through. I resurfaced quickly and immediately raised my left hand to my forehead looking for blood. As I pulled my hand away I saw a little pink. I turned towards the crowd paddled a couple strokes and felt the warm blood flowing down and dripping off my nose. Upon a second inspection I could feel the gap above my eyebrow. I told John I was ok, and I would meet him back on the road to the Mariposa. I took off through the next couple rapids and pulled over a quarter mile down stream and hiked back up to the road.

All I wanted for Christmas was a 50 footer... I have heard of getting a lump of coal for Christmas, but a lump on my forehead seems a little excessive.

Special thanks to John and Jill of the Casa Mariposa, you have helped set safety, shoot photos, mend ill friends, lend local knowledge and machetes, and most importantly share your home and the best base camp I could ever imagine.


First Descents, Rio Chirripo Pacifico, Cateratas from Chris Baer on Vimeo.

Chris Baer, still smiling with a black eye.

Partial First Descents of Rio Division and Sevegre

Todd Wells doing the first descent dance

Rio Division 
Ferdinand showed me a you Tube video of a couple of people trying to do the first descent of the Division river. These people were in a raft and a ducky, it looked laughable at best. It turns out the joke was on us. 2 days, 5 hours of hiking and scouting, and we accomplished just a bit better results then the rafters.

So where are we going?

I was sitting in the town square of San Isidro, when Ferdinand and Todd pulled up. We went and had breakfast, the conversation was filled with what do you think we are really getting our self's into. We planed for a two day trip, deep canyons, rope work, and just about every untold possibility.

A few minutes later Felipe showed up he was to be our shuttle driver and local beta guru. We hoped into his Toyota Land cruiser and we were off to Santa Eduviges.

Felipe's 4x4 of fun

Upon arrival we did a little pre put in scouting, we decided to skip some class 4 warm up and head right into the meat of the run. We took our time packing our over night and rescue equipment. The time was 12 noon, we had 5 hours of day light before we needed to camp, and everyone was pretty excited about the run.

Ferdinand, in a warm up drop.

We put on and went a mere 400 meters before we reached the first, previously unrun drop. It was a 20 footer that landed in a odd shaped cauldron. The walls were definitely undercut and the water boiled up 30 feet away from the drop. One by one we took our chances, and amazingly enough every one had relatively good lines.

Todd, sending the 20 footeer

We went another 100 feet, and saw the lip of a drop that looked absolutely amazing. Unfortunately it fell 30 feet onto a rock shelf, not to mention it was the start of a very containing canyon.

We took our time scouting the upcoming canyon and it was one horrendous looking drop after the next. There is no doubt in my mind that without some amazing rope work this canyon will never be ran. We had managed to move 500 meters in 5 hours, something had to change. The beta we had said there was another canyon ahead and it looked as containing if not more from the topographical map. It was time to skip the next canyon or anticipate spending a second night, with few calories somewhere deep in the canyon. After appraising our options, it seemed best to hike 500 vertical feet back up to the road and a half a mile to the town of Santo Thomas. Upon reaching Santo Thomas it was getting cold and dark. We meet a few locals and Ferdinand immediately started negotiating a truck ride down stream around the second canyon. An hour or so later we piled our equipment into a pick up truck and started the drive. As the rain pounded down we arrived at a shed, I was so happy to have a mildly dry place to lay my bivy sack.

Home sweet home

hiking back into the canyon

We awoke to beautiful views 1500 feet above the river. One of the locals told us he could hike into the canyon in 20 minutes, we anticipated just over an hour with the kayaks. What we encountered was a 2-3 hour hike through coffee fields, then banana fields, then the ground gave way. It got too steep to plant anything and the vegetation returned to native Costa Rican Jungle. We lowered our boats with ropes for the last 500 feet to the river. Upon reaching the river I was delighted with the sights of clean steep whitewater.

look close or double click to check out the 200 meeter waterfall

We had about 9 kilometers of river to paddle to get to our planed destination, the town of Savegre. We reentered the canyon about a kilometer or so above where the other group had. Therefore we had a kilometer of amazing, steep, first descents in front of us.

Ferdinand, with another cool rapid

The group had a new energy back on the water, we paddled well. Drop after drop we scouted and ran great lines, the white water was steep and technical.

Ferdinand having a little fun

There were no portages and most rapids had multiple fun lines. We paddled for less time then we hiked the day before, and we had the Savegre bridge in sight.

putting some calories back in our bodies, at the Sevegre bridge

Ferdinand made a phone call to Felipe, he was over an hour away so we decided to push on to the town of El Brujo. We were greeted with news that the next 9 miles to Brujo were class 4 and had been ran not that long ago. This took the group moral to new heights, and before you knew it we were boofing off random rocks, and running obscure tight lines. Just over an hour later we saw Felipe on the side of the river, it had been a long but very rewarding day.

Todd, picking up his bow

There is absolutely no way this will ever be a classic, but with a little work you could make this an amazing one day adventure.

Todd, sending another first descent

With a nights rest and a good meal in El Brujo we tackled another big mission.



The Savegre

So Felipe's father lives on a piece of land near the Los Quetzales National Park, and was speaking highly of a back yard run. Ferdinand was more then excited to pick off another first descent, and so was I.  Todd, Ferdinand, and I loaded boats onto horses in the morning, and hiked back into the jungle. The horse trail was beat down, deep mud, and deeper ruts the entire 11 kilometers up to Felipe's house. Once at the house, Felipe's mother brought us a great hearty lunch. It was already just past noon and we had 11 kilometers, 5 or so of which had never been paddled before to descend. My energy was circling the drain, but I was excited to see some more quality white water. 10 minutes into the run I crested a pour over to see a retentive hole. I cranked out a hand full of strokes aiming for the right side of the hole. I hit the hole got stern stalled and felt the water pulling me back in for a ride. I took a couple good rides, and got on the foam pile, a few strong strokes and I was heading back in for another ride. A few more seconds later, and my low energy had gotten the better of me. I slid my knee out of the thigh brace and popped out of my boat.

It took a couple minutes to recover my gear, and I tried to get my head back in the game. Around the bend was Felipe and the whole family, they were there to watch us run the "big one". It was an ugly left to right drop that had a odd looking hole at it's base. Ferdinand fired it up first and got blown hard left into a pin rock. He dug in with a strong brace, and pulled himself around the pin rock and into the pool. Todd caught a lower eddy and made a strong move left to right but got spun out near the lip, and fell into the drop with almost no speed. This resulted in another entertaining run. I peeled out of the top eddy supper low and kept my momentum down the drop, I managed to cut through the nasty first hole, just to get immediately flipped in the compression hole behind it. Our exhaustion was starting to show in our boating.

Ferdinand lining up the "big one"

Ferdinand deep in the crease

We headed down stream picking off other drops and keeping a relatively fast pace. As we got further down stream Ferdinand informed us that we had already paddled more then half the gradient in the first third of the run. This put us all in a state of calm, we started goofing around again. A few more kilometers went by and the recognition of what we had done started to come over me.

In three days we paddled 23 miles, hiked 10 miles, kayaked 5 miles of first descents, and had an amazing time exploring a beautiful corner of Costa Rica.

a cool centipede

The video Ferdinand showed me, and are only real beta.

Savegre and Division River, partial First Descent from Chris Baer on Vimeo.

Chris Baer
exhausted, beat down, and smiling