His Son Hiked Into the Costa Rican Jungle, and Never Came Out. What Happened?

Control, anywhere, anytime is an illusion. We are all the pawns of fate and nature.

Adventure is a necessary and fundamental human drive. It motivates many people to seek out unknown, unpredictable, and risky locations and pursuits. Adventure invites and demands us to be in touch with a primal experience of being a human, the animal that has survived against incredible odds for as long as we have been walking the earth. Some people are more comfortable getting their adventures in front of monitors and screens, playing games of challenge and warfare, but not stepping out of the safety of their homes. I throw my hat in with Romans I and II. I have been a wilderness explorer since is was barely a teenager. On a winter expedition on Mt Rainier at 19 I lost my professor and a fellow student to an avalanche while retreating from an attempt on the summit. It was traumatic and terrifying, but it was transformative. I have spent the rest of my life as wilderness guide sharing our world's wild and challenging landscape with thousands of people. I do not run from adventure and risk, but use a lifetime of experience to hone the edge between life and death, always maintaining the necessary safety to be able to return again and again. It is that edge of the unknown that expands our appreciation for life. I too have a children that are wilderness adventurers. My gut tightens when they announce their adventures, but my heart sings to know I have helped parent people who know the brilliance and joy of authentic experience in life. Just text me when you're home!

I spent some time in my 20s on similar treks and adventures...but always with at least one other person. No doubt going it alone can be exciting and rewarding in its own ways, but it also significantly increases risk, especially if you're in the middle of nowhere.

Being hit by a falling tree is a freak accident that could have happened almost anywhere at any time. I hope Mr. Dial's family takes some comfort in knowing that he probably died quickly and doing something he loved. There is no reason to blame his death on his love of exploring.

Mr. Dial raised his son Cody to be in his image. For the rest of his life he will ponder the question was it worth it?

I'd like to know how Roman Two's mother feels about her son's choices. The mother's perspective is important. RIP Roman Two.

I envy those with the choice to explore. They simply did not have to go. Others do not face that choice. Growing up in the Darien gap does not allow you to go home to the good ole US and watch Survivor instead. Or at 17 thrown into a jungle against a bunch of trained soldiers trying to kill you. That was my experience back in '68. Waiting for morning, every bird noise, snake slithering through, bugs, it was fun. Every noise , what was that? My daddy was not there to fly me home. You sent your son into the jungle, hope this article finds you some resolution.

Reminds me of the Rockefeller family member who took a junket to New Guin. Island and was never seen again.

Wow. Who knew that the opinion that electricity (and excessive technology) ruins the charm and simplicity - and peace - of a rural place, is ..... "ethnocentric". Seems rather bigoted to me. But that's the illogic of the modern PC mind. I'll keep my quiet areas w/o electricity, thanks...

Is 60 years of run of the mill equal to 30 of WOW? Or even 20, or 10, or less? It is a subjective question, and so is the answer. I think most of us have done some combination of both. Extreme adventurers, of which I am not, seem driven by something that if left unsatisfied leads to... I do not know, but I also do not judge. I do know my life is my gift and I am responsible for living it to the fullest of my ability, within the confines of my values. I have spent some considerable part of my 60 years in the wilderness, and in my younger years found myself in some precarious situations, but always with others to help. I would not exchange those experiences for anything. As an adult I have done much of my trekking solo, and even with my hard earned knowledge, that is inherently risky, but I do not argue with that. I accept it and take what precautions I can along with the wonders incomparable. I am going to Death Valley, alone, next week and no doubt will be far removed (in such a place just over the ridge is far removed) from any assistance in an emergency. But, for me, not having the "purity" of the experience that comes with being alone would be a life less lived. It is not the danger that I seek, but to disconnect from Civilization, even for a little bit, means cutting the safety net, and for my life I am willing to do that.

In 1959, at age 18, I spent my pre-college summer hitch-hiking around the Southwest US. I had a couple of dangerous experiences, one climbing a particularly challenging mountain in Colorado, another catching a ride from a sexual predator. I escaped both situations unscathed, which contributed to the sense of invulnerability so typical of young people. Post college I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Ethiopia, traveling through that country extensively as well as in nearby Kenya and Tanzania. I was a bit older and more risk-averse, though on multiple occasions I did find myself staring into the gun barrels of Haile Selassie’s and Jomo Kenyatta’s guards, and having to rescue myself and my companions from a car that stalled at night in an isolated Kenya game park. I began to mature, and trips to Egypt, Iran and India a few years later included only a few incidents that qualified as stretching the envelope. Now at 78, when my desire for extreme experiences has substantially moderated, I quite understand the urge of the author—and his son—to seek adventure; been there, done that, feels good. Unfortunately, not all adventures turn out well; one can do everything right and die, and do some things wrong and survive. Whatever the details, I hope the author has achieved closure in the matter of his missing son. Would I have pointed out to my own adult son the possible dangers of traveling to Darien Gap? Probably. Would I have told him not to go? No.

I am so sorry for the loss of this young man. If one puts oneself in precarious situations, the ride sometimes ends badly. Maybe it is worth the risk. I have been an avid skydiver and rough traveler. Many good acquaintances have died before their time. I almost ended too soon - four parachute malfunctions and a few high speed free fall collisions. I have been in really bad situations I thought I could handle but barely got out of, in Colorado (a hungry aggressive bear, thugs), Remote Nicaragua (thugs) and Costa Rica (thugs from Colombia, jungle). All you can do is stack the odds in your favor but the x-factor can get you. Pray.

Serious scientists take life threatening risks to secure understanding in jungle Costa Rica. Never under estimate jungle rot when you are too far from medical intervention. But this adventure for the sake of adventure is machismo folly. Betting on the odds with no real benefit seems massively misguided. Sorry for his loss but ultimately not joy.

@Kai True. But it's also easy to become disabled by a broken bone or a fall, and have the jungle quickly overtake whatever remains of you after the animals have had their fill.

A couple years ago, I think, in the NYT, another naturalist/biologist-type wrote an article about the risks of being out in the wild. The article is really about "odds." He relates being out in, maybe Borneo on an expedition, and how the natives would not sleep under a tree, and how silly he thought that was: as in, what are the odds a tree will fall tonight. He writes that actually, in the forest, that's pretty common and he came to respect the natives. He then goes on to point out that we urbanites face the same odds every day when we get in the shower, and risk a fall. I'm sure there's a statistical name for this but I forget everything but his point - so I always hold on to the grab bar!

A tree (or limb) fall can kill a camper even at a busy state park. That’s why a large overhanging dead branch is called a “widow maker” (always look up before pitching your tent). Nature is beautiful and dangerous, and you don’t have to sneak into an exotic jungle to fall victim. Highways are dangerous too, but usually not beautiful.

And that's why you don't do that sort of thing in third world countries. Step outside of the resort and you are gambling with your life with very poor odds.

Corcovado National Park -- sneaked in? It's open to the public. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corcovado_National_Park My father used to say "it just takes once". That's true about hiking, driving, flying, encounters with drug dealers, etc. etc.

At this moment, we are high on a desert mountain, camping in our off-road Teardrop, with nary a soul for a long distance from us. We have traveled 55000 miles in the past 8 years, hiking 3700 miles and cycling 17000 miles. We have camped in hundreds of dispersed spots all over our wonderful U.S. We are in our 70s. We carry two satellite devices for summoning help. We have something called our “safety rule.” That rule is that if either of us calls “safety rule”we both leave, There is no discussion. We have all medicines we need, and are armed for those rare, but true, encounters with weirdos (we have to be our own law enforcement). We know the potential risks of our lifestyle, but are planful in order to minimize them. We believe our risks of something bad happening are lower doing what we do than they are driving to the grocery store on a busy freeway. To quote Roy Blatty in Blade Runner: “We have seen things you people wouldn’t believe.” But we take no actual risks. We are the definition of adventurers. Many people confuse being adventurers with being risk takers. To their peril. One does not imply the other. Tonight we will sleep in our small Teardrop. In the early dawn we will hike and see sights “you people wouldn’t believe.” And in a few days will return safely to civilization to text with our grandchildren.

It's one thing to climb mountains and ford rapids. Quite another to go into an area known for guerrillas and drug trafficking. The first is daring, the second foolhardy-- at least that's how it looks to me. And knowing the difference is paramount.

Hopefully his father takes solace in the knowledge that he fostered intellectual curiosity in his son, who was an adult capable of weighing risks when what happened, happened. Look forward to reading the book.

Quite sad. Makes me recall 3 of my friends who went rafting in CR 20 years ago - their raft tipped and they got separated. 2 made it out of the canyon they were in with minor issues. 3rd friend was lost for 4 days and almost died but found an “abandoned” dug out canoe and passed out in it and the owners found him and rescued him.

Can you, when when the thin-veneer of civilization crumbles and the relative comfort and ease of contemporary life disappears, survive? I think that is a powerful driver for many of us who to varying degrees consider ourselves adventure-prone. And it important to recognize that as a distinct category from adreniline seeking. Bungee-jumping requires little skill; backpacking solo in snowy, subzero conditions tens of miles from other human beings is not for amateurs. And, if I am being honest, I think I am better than most people for being able to answer "yes" to that question. I have learned not to panic, to assess the most immenent threat to my life, to account for my available resources, to plan, to execute, and to reevaluate in the face of new circumstances. Yet, on most trips, I have a moment or two when I think to myself, "If I get out of this situation, I know for next time to bring/do/avoid X." Getting married, however, changed my cost-benefit calculation. Previously, if I died on a trip, I had little concern about how that would affect others and there is little to worry about yourself after you are peacefully frozen solid, laying at the bottom of a crevasse or floating under a layer of lake ice. I believe that is the myopia of nearly all children: we never fully appreciate how harm to ourselves will torment our parents. But, marriage and parenthood irrevocably alter that perspective. I know consciously consider: what would my wife think about this decision?

All adventure is a risk, and every adventurer must calculate their willingness to push risk factors. I've ridden motorcycles intermittently for over 50 years. On the road there is always the concern of inattention, by other drivers as well as my own. Such lack of focus for even a moment can lead to serious consequences. I accept that and do what I can to take care of myself, but I can't control others' actions other than to make myself as visible as possible. I take precautions, in other words. On a dirt road with its much slower pace and reduced traction, my biggest fear at age 70 is falling down and not being able to pick up my motorcycle. A different risk, but, again, within my risk acceptability. All these risks are mine to choose. I also choose to drive the freeways at 65-70 mph. A risk? Sure, but acceptable. We all see risk in life and choose our limits. Some live, some die, and yet, it's not always our choice.

My heart hurts for this family. Even knowing how it ended for Cody, I can wish that my childhood had more of what his father gave him. There is no substitute for the wild. Nothing compares; people who lament the choices here simply do not understand. In the end, it can happen to any of us just as it could happen to Cody. Standing in the midst of life’s travels and its plans, we could find ourselves dying while walking home. In fact, there was a large and violent storm that moved through my neighborhood last night. That could have been it for me. If that’s how it went, at least I have seen some of the world and have been able to marvel at it. That’s the only gift I would really care about giving to my children: a lived capacity for awe at the planet we live on.

There is something between adrenaline rush and inertia. Going out-of-doors on backpacks is a great way to see the natural world and to become, in a way others aren't, a part of it. That is an experience that can't really be expressed in words- in part it allows one to understand an important context of life civilization closes off. But to experience that it isn't necessary to place oneself unreasonably in harm's way. Going with other experienced companions to locations that have been well scouted is important. It is also essential that the details of a trip are gone over in advance and various contingencies explored. If wilderness hiking is a "proving" activity then the individual should be fully aware of, and consciously accept, the risks and potential consequences- if it is done to better understand the natural world, and risk is kept to a minimum by planning and forethought, it is fairly safe.

"You can do everything right and die. You can do it all wrong and survive." That's life in a nutshell. As I get older I realize rationality in nature is paradoxically a chaotic and rare form.

Hiking the Darien Gap - reflects a death wish, an immature belief in one's lack of mortality. Folks who live there need less excuse to murder an innocent stranger.

Macho experiences have consequences; disappearing into the jungle and not coming out is one o them. The list, while not endless, is chock full of cautionary tales, prompting the unadventurous couch potato to set up in front of the flatscreen, munch whatever snacks strikes his fancy, and stay out of the woods, off the mountain, on shore, you name it. Pitching adventure, in whatever form it is proposed, is always but always couched as some kind of faux spiritual experience that "opens" one to nature, ya-ya, and ya-da. Thanks, but no thanks.