Stick Viper!!

Sometimes I had to stop and wonder at the things I would catch myself doing in the name of 'fun'. Slogging through waist deep mud in jungle swamp, wearing heavy canvas overshirts, and hauling at least 30 pounds of camera equipment and other 'necessary' gear really did sound like fun.

I was with a group of friends and we were supposedly on a jaguar hunt for an action photo session. I suppose that 6 excited baying hunting dogs were necessary, but I'm also pretty sure that any jaguars in Belize knew to lay low along about then, too.

It had been the rainy season and all the paths were too muddy for even the Land Rovers to tackle. After winching them past 2 bogs and floating two of them downstream, we decided we'd better hoof it the rest of the distance.

One animal trail had turned into a streambed overnight, and we all paused to take a rest before going deeper into the 'bush'. I had been slapping at mosquitoes with the sleeves of my shirt and dunked the material in the cool stream to wash my face off. I was surprised when I saw the sleeves were in shreds! Razorgrass! I wore shorts and my legs didn't look much better.

Doctor flies, mosquitoes, razor grass, you name it, and I ran into it. The thought of shredding my jeans kept me from going for protection. Leather hiking boots, now soaking, completed my 'essentials'. (Skin will heal, denim is more valuable.)

Something crashed up ahead! The hounds went berserk so two were turned loose on the prey. Our guide assured us that 'dey only chase da cat'. When we heard that familiar sound of gnashing teeth, we knew they had cornered a waray instead! Dutifully taking it's picture and hauling the dogs off the kill, we let it escape back into the underbrush. Waray is a white lipped pecarry, and kin to the javelina and about as sweet-tempered.

The jungle is a marvelous place. You can get lost within a few yards of your camp or vehicle if you get off a known path or turned around at all. The local Belizeans say that if a person hasn't been found in a couple of hours, it'll be several days before they're found. By then, they have 'gone bushy mon'.

Stories of people having to be roped and tied for awhile after surviving such an adventure kept me from leaving the path too far. I was also tied to a hound so we weren't 'going bushy' without a fight! Although staring at the South end of that dog for 6 hours did make me rather testy.

Bader (our host and guide) kept locating 'treasure' and putting it into my backpack. I think he was just adding ballast to slow me down a little! I was sandwiched between the machete-wielders and Bader, most of us tied to a dog or two.

I leaped another small streambed and something grabbed my ankle!! The lead machete man turned and started hacking at the ground! Bader hauled his dog out of the line of fire and raced to see what had bitten me. I leaped straight up in the air, taking the dog along with me, landing several feet away from the 'thing'. After all the churning, a little piece of dead vine drifted to the surface of the stream and calmly floated off.

I turned and shrugged and announced, "Stick Viper, mon'.