No Barriers on the Samana Peninsula of the Dominican Republic
I could have had a beastly Dominican man as my personal guide to lead me through the jungle to the Salto el Limon waterfall. His muscles seem to explode through his skin and he would have kept me safe on my steed. It is a treacherous three-hour horseback riding adventure up and down a rocky muddy trail. I was lined up to get him, but instead, I go for a sweet-looking young Dominican girl.
I am on the Samana Peninsula in the north of the Dominican Republic. Although this horseback riding/hiking adventure to the country’s most spectacular waterfall is one of the most popular tourist attractions, and can get quite busy, it is rated as a highlight of every traveler’s island experience.
Contrary to horseback riding excursions in most countries, where you follow butt to head in a line, every single rider here has their own personal handler. It gives the locals a job and us a sense of security, and considering the rough terrain, they may be necessary.
We first ride through a colorful village with brightly painted modest houses, through coffee and cocoa fields, with trees that dropped tiny magenta blossoms that completely cover the ground like purple rugs were thrown down.
The horses saddles are covered with pads made from multi-colored strips of shredded fabric and my bridle is merely a yank of rope. My girl clomps along in high rubber boots, the same that I was advised to wear, barefooted.
We ride through forests of magnificent palms, up steep concreted stone steps that honestly remind me of the Inca Trail. Inbetween the steps swirl pumpkin-colored mud that the horses occasionally slip in. When they have a chance to trot, like up an open stretch, they take off, and my girl has to run to catch up, breathless. When she walks with me, she holds my horses’ tail or his rope bridle and smiles at me nearly non-stop.
I ask her name, and she pronounces it very slowly in exaggerated, individual syllables so I can get the tongue-rolling correct, or attempt to. “Mar i el a.” It takes me a few tries before she is satisfied.
There are three river fords we must negotiate and since the Samana Peninsula recently experienced heavy rains from Hurricane Sandy, the muddy river is hip deep and roiling. I hold my camera high above my head, as if it would be safe and dry if my horse rolled. When in reality, first thing I would do is put my hands down to brace myself. Mariela looks at me and says in perfect English, “No worries.” Okay, put my trust in her. She stumbles once or twice and almost bites it, as well as my horse, it but regains it beautifully.
We arrive at a covered patio where we dismount and will proceed on foot. If the past few kilometers were treacherous, the remaining descent is even worse (for horses). The 165- foot spectacular Salto el Limon Waterfall roars below us in the valley and I am anxious to arrive. Mariela picks up on that so she synchronizes her boot steps next to mine and proceeds to jump down the steep steps two feet at a time. I can do this and I mimic her. She reaches up to the saplings trunks that we pass and gives them a shake to drop rain droplets on me to tease me. I resort to charades to ask her age- and she flashes up ten fingers and then one. I am surprised to learn she is merely eleven and is so confident and skilled. I hold up my hands and flash decade after decade of fingers up until I reach 56. She appears surprised. I am more than five times her age but it doesn’t feel that way.
At the base of the waterfall, we have another river ford and she takes my hand and enters the boiling water as a team. We grasp one another’s hands and brace each other when one of us slips.
The powerful waterfall throws mist high in the air, soaking us like a rain shower when we are still many feet away. She motions for me to take off my rubber boots, and holds out her hand once again. She leads me into the pool at the base of the waterfall, around the hidden rocks and drop offs to a place where we can get low and duck ourselves for a swim.
When we get sufficiently cooled off, we slip on our rubber boots and proceed to climb. Although the guide warned us of the difficult climb back out of the valley, I do not get easily winded and can step high and fast with the fit and youthful. When Mariela sees this, we once again synchronize our steps. We slam our boots down, in unison, one step at a time, to the rhythm we make together. We snap our fingers. We giggle all the way up the climb and find ourselves beyond any language or age barrier.
Posted in: Travel Story
Thanks for sharing this Cindy 🙂 Your story and pics go hand in hand.
thanks for the vote of confidence Brian- appreciate it – if it weren’t for coming home to tell stories and share pics, I might not ever want to!
Now I know what I missed. I’m putting the waterfall trek on my to-do list. Nice!
yeah yeah, pal- never miss out if you can help it! you were the best- but thanks for the nighttime swim- you were the only one that took me up on THAT adventure!
Great piece girl! I choose the beastly Dominican man … good thing too … that climb back to the horses was a challenge to say the least … you my hero!!!!
beastly always scores high- you’d better FB freinds me- i have lots of pics of you and for some reason, it isn’t letting me post after I downloaded- unless I tag , which I can do for you