Sustainable Conservation in the Highlands of Costa Rica

By Dennis Bolshakov

Costa Rica often shown as an example of how conservation should work: around 25% of the country’s land is protected, and a wide system of national parks and biological research are hallmarks of recent Costa Rican developments (since the 70s). The reality is that conservation has a convoluted past here, with the government often imposing rules without little to no compensation to landowners, and the park system being too expensive for locals to peruse and enjoy, meaning the budget for the parks is small and the visitors to the parks often being foreigners. In fact, “eco-tourism” is a major part of the Costa Rican economy.

When the system of protecting the nation’s lands first started emerging, many people had trouble understanding why protecting the forests was important. The conservation movement was spear-headed by university graduates who understood the importance of the incredible biodiversity found here, while many rural people did not understand why they suddenly could not chop trees down for firewood after generations of doing so. Even though now the literacy rate is around 98% and most people have access to an excellent education, the rigidity of Costa Rican conservation practices leads many people to dislike it, which could be a future reason for un-protecting the reserves. Recently, I heard a very interesting potential approach to conservation: sustainable use of the reserve’s resources can actually provide both protected land and high-quality resources to future generations living near protected forests.

To elaborate, let me first tell you about Cuericí. As part of the OTS Costa Rica Tropical Biology program, I travel to different ecosystems and biological stations to learn about the flora and fauna in the field. Our second station is located in the pre-Montane wet forest near the Cerro de la Muerte mountains in the Cartago Province. When most people think about the tropics, they imagine heat and mosquitos, but this place has neither. At night temperature falls below zero, and during the day I need to wear 3 layers to feel warm. It is an absolutely beautiful place, and I have never felt such a connection to the land as I do here.

The Cuericí biological station is run by Don Carlos Solano, a pioneer of conservation in the area. However, it was never easy to conserve the area. Most of the secondary forest on his grandfather’s land had been converted to pasture land and the primary forest above it was threatened. When he started conserving the land, government help was minimal (around $400 dollars per hectare). To sustain himself and his family he established a trout farm and started bringing in eco-tourists and researchers (like OTS). He planted a forest of alder to restore the top layer and allow the understory to flourish, and native species to rejuvenate. Such active conservation is rare but not unprecedented: to preserve the tropical dry forest in the Guanacaste province, teak trees have been planted, then removed after the native plants had a chance to recolonize.

Sunset over Cuericí. The mountain I took this from was allowed to overgrow with blackberries, which are harvested by the station and used to make juice for the tourists. This field, in addition to the trout farm helps Don Carlos fund his conservation efforts in the nearby mountains.

Don Carlos’ motivation for conservation was so his grandkids could enjoy the forest in the same way he did. However, with current laws, it is not even allowed to use a fallen oak tree. Don Carlos believes that if regulated use were permitted, conservation would not only be more palatable to rural citizens, but also more profitable in the long run. And I agree. I think that before using an ecosystem, there needs to be extensive research about the system to understand its limits, and that use should never even approach these limits. But some foraging and use should be permitted as long as it is well-regulated. That is how it was before widespread deforestation through agriculture, and that is how it should be if we want financially self-sustaining conservation.

An interesting example where such conservation is being done is the use of cattle at the Palo Verde National Park tropical dry forest to eliminate invasive species. Before it was made a national park, the area was mostly pasture land for cattle, and the dry forest was extremely fragmented and often chopped down to make room for more pasture (at one point, the government even subsidized deforestation!). After it became a protected land, the forest started recovering, but two species started choking out others in their respective environments: an African species of grass that is extremely resilient towards fire outcompeted native grasses, and cattails took over the adjacent wetland. After many failed attempts and much consternation, a controversial strategy was implemented: local ranchers were permitted to let their cattle roam on certain day in certain areas, and because the two species were so dominant, they were the primary food of the cows. Now, the African grass is mostly defeated, but the cattails remain a problem. Another way the researchers fight the cattail is using special tractors to mull it into the water in such a way it cannot regrow. I think that using the cattle is an excellent strategy because it is a win-win-win situation for the locals, the researchers, and ultimately the protected area. In addition, the fees the ranchers pay to use the land helps fund conservation. And I think that similar, regulated use of public protected areas should be implemented everywhere.

The Wetlands at Palo Verde National Park: observe how at the right, near the biological station the wetland is more green and open, while farther to the east (left) cattails (the brown patches) choke the landscape all the way to the horizon.