Once You Go Back: Parque Nacional Jaragua Botanial Wonderland
I'm recovering from surgery at Mayo Clinic today. Everything is going well - great. Thank you all sincerely for your thoughts, prayers, and notes. While I rest, I wanted to share something different: a throwback story that offers a brief escape into a world of wonderfully strange plants and compassionate, open-hearted people who welcomed me with open arms.
Once, I ran over two horses. It happened during an adventure I documented in detail - one that left me stranded in a tiny desert town on the Haiti border, ten hours from civilization, unable to communicate with either the federales or the local mechanic. The horses survived, but my rental car was destroyed. My salvation came in the form of an unexpected friend - the local ice-man who, upon discovering my passion for plants and adventure, became my guide to the botanical wonders of his wild lands.
I'm sharing this story now because sometimes we all need an escape. This excerpt comes from my work "Once You Go Back," a story of both botanical and personal discovery. Here’s a link to the summary and chapter outline.
There are moments in our youth when our minds are exceptionally malleable, like soft clay awaiting shape. Psychologists call these "critical periods" - windows when our experiences profoundly influence who we become. Though such transformative moments become rarer with age, they never truly cease.
My own journey of self-redefinition began unexpectedly in this remote corner of Hispaniola, far from modern conveniences. Through an unlikely friendship, my first interracial relationship, and encounters with wealth I'd never known, I confronted questions about inequity and my place in the world.
The mountains of Hispaniola rise like a crumpled paper landscape, untamed and unmarked. When I first arrived two decades ago, this frontier existed beyond the reach of road signs, digital maps, or tourist guides.
The Heart of Hispaniola
The rugged mountains of Hispaniola is a landscape early Europeans described as "sharp and craggy as a crumpled piece of paper." When I first visited over 20 years ago, this wild frontier lacked road signs, online maps, or even a mention in the Lonely Planet Guide.
An Unlikely Guide
I found myself sharing a tiny car with a stranger - a local coffee farmer who'd grown up in the shadow of these mountains yet had never ventured into their depths. We were an unlikely pair: me, the foreigner, and him, the country boy, thrown together by chance for an eight-hour journey through uncharted terrain. As the hours passed, our initial awkwardness dissolved into something else entirely - a shared spirit of discovery and adventure.
Our journey led us into a cool cloud forest, where we scaled towering trees, traversed massive limbs, and stepped carefully around delicate orchids and bromeliads nestled in the bark. It was here, surrounded by mist and endless greenery, that our connection began to take root.
A Glimpse of Paradise
Through a sudden break in the forest canopy, the crystal-clear Caribbean revealed itself far below - a shimmering blue expanse that seemed to belong to another world entirely from our misty mountain perch.
The Language of Music
My new friend spoke Créole and Spanish; I only English. He bridged this gap with song, his strong tenor voice filling the air with Bob Marley lyrics as we rode in the back of a pickup truck. It wasn’t perfect, though, as Marley sang in English and his Jamaican Patio.
Descending Through Diversity
Our journey took us backward through changing landscapes. The air grew drier, the sun more intense. Long sleeves gave way to bare skin as we navigated rocky canyons and arid plains.
The Bay of Eagles
Our final destination was a stark contrast to where we began. Cacti stood sentinel behind us while glaring white sand stretched out on either side. As we peered over the truck's cab, the Bay of Eagles revealed itself - a hidden paradise.
This was beyond words "beautiful" to read and see! The first paragraph ("There are moments in our youth when our minds are exceptionally malleable, like soft clay waiting to be shaped. Psychologists call these "critical periods" - windows of time when our experiences profoundly influence who we become. As we grow older, these transformative moments become rarer, but they remain possible.") is some of the most profound and exquisite prose I've come across in recent years! Thank you!