Iguassu Falls: The Niagara on Viagra

Iguassu Falls, mostly in Argentina, partly in Brazil, are the highlight of Iguassu National Park, a 385,000 square miles of ecological sanctuary and home to 2,000 species of plants, 450 bird species, more than 80 different types of mammals, and too many insect species to have counted them all yet.

Busy place.

A Guarani Indian legend says that Iguassu Falls formed when a jealous forest god, enraged at a warrior escaping downriver with a contraband young girl in a canoe, caused the river�s bed to collapse in front of the lovers. The girl plunged over the edge and turned to stone. The warrior survived as a lovelorn tree overlooking his vanquished betrothed.

Geologically speaking, the story lacks the romanticism. The conflux of Brazil�s Rio Iguassu (Iguassu River) and Rio Paran� (Paran� River) tumbles over a basalt plateau, dividing into fingers, or catarata, of water in numbers and force that indeed prevents any antediluvian purists remaining out there to deny gravity�s existence.

At the entrance to the park, the well-organized and helpful multilingual staff hand out pamphlets and steer visitors to museums and displays that provide a quick lay of the land. Afterwards, the first quest for water from this human divining rod began by boarding a Disneyland-like choo-choo that filed through the jungle. Along the way, flocks as big as 20 butterflies flittered and danced, playing and leaping like dry land winged dolphins. Each flock matched brilliantly. One team was decorated primarily canary yellow with vermilion garnitures. Another was two-toned blue, sky and navy, and tastefully trimmed with a jot of white.

At the end of the line, a half-mile walk over sturdy steel catwalks spans benign murky rivers lined with more verdant jungle. Posted are picture signposts of �Don�t feed the monkeys,� �Stay clear of the snakes,� and �Beware of jaguars.�

As one draws nearer, the fall�s most fearsome precipice lets out a few warnings. On the horizon, plumes of haze snort through gaps between trees. A dull growl increases in decibels with each step. The sound is consistent lacking bursts or drops. The humidity thickens. Steadily the growl turns to roar. A mushroom cloud of mist shot high then dissipated from wind. People could be seen turning for protection, moving back, and running away.

Finally, the source of all the fuss was in full view, and that forest god was some jealous. The Garganta del Diablo, or Devil�s Throat, is a semi-circular bowl hundreds of yards across that deluges Noahesque quantities of river 250 feet into a cauldron of hissing mist so thick, a view of the bottom is only sporadically granted. The volume of water is so great some seems too impatient to join the main push. Instead it flanks to either side and finds its own outlets over clusters of rock. Grasses that had grown tall at a drier time of year are now helpless to the stampede of fluid.

Billows of mist climbed high again and again, at times blowing back over all the expensive cameras. The shutterbugs turned for protection, moved back, or ran away.

Occasionally the sun would peek through on this cloudy day permitting an angel to offer a rainbow deep in the larynx of the Devil, but he quickly grew testy and pulled the blind on the porthole. Milton endures. Beelzebub sneers, �Keep your olive branches.�

With Hydro Hades implacable, a retreat to the train backtracked to Cataratas Station for a sandwich and the beginning of a walking tour to the remainder of the falls. Perhaps they will be more of a puppy.

A flat stroll along jungle paths was a delight. Three monkeys auditioned for a new Olympic sport; tree gymnastics. The show lasted a couple of minutes, but humans proved a frightfully boring creature to the performers, so they decided another part of the jungle held greater allures and disappeared into the foliage.

Three barely visible ants were making off with unlikely carrion. Somehow they huffed and puffed and dragged a dead beetle on its back, surely 20 times higher in weight class, across the path to a chop shop for ants. This Volkswagen was too big to fit down any hole those tiny carjackers would dig. Squads of butterflies in full uniform ran security.

Catwalks branch off into the Upper Circuit and Lower Circuit. The Upper Circuit skirts along the top of Bosseti Falls and gives a top down view of the cataratas. Here, the water is more orderly. It queues and marches forward in step without fatigue or complaint rather than the jailbreak rioting earlier. However, after falling nearly a football field in length, the finale is no less a meat grinder. Uncountable fingers of water string out across the horizon. Although the Bosseti�s lack the fearsome anger of the Devil�s Throat, they are no less awesome in their majesty.

A flock of seven budgies on growth hormones, colored with retina-burning lime green and bright red, circled towards the falls twice. From my vantage, they appeared suicidal, but somewhere in their view was a landing pad. On the third approach, six disappeared into the falls. The seventh, and smallest, tried following in but had to abort and power up as the deck crew cleared a space. Two failed attempts to set down finally succeeded on the third.

The Lower Circuit requires climbing steps, occasionally a few slippery ones. These catwalks arrive at the base of Bosseti Falls, also Ramirez Falls, and a boat launch. Various tours are available by speedboats that take you and your Canon for the most spectacular views, even up the gut to laugh in the face of El Diablo. How close depends on water volumes. Landlubbers can knock the Tropic of Capricorn�s heat off by following one branch of catwalk directly into the spray of a huge catarata for a fun dousing.

A trip to the Argentine side of Iguassu Falls takes a full day. The Devil burns two hours, and the Upper and Lower Circuits consume an hour and a half each. Tack on the visitor center, rest, snacks, and your own private time to gaze at this marvelous wonder.

The Brazilian side takes a couple of hours. It offers an opposite field angle of the Devil�s Throat, and the chance to get soaked by some of Satan�s cataratas. Aracnophiles can see a commonwealth of huge spiders sun tanning as they net-fish for lunch. Long-snouted raccoons tamely hang out among the crowd. One adult smelled food, and pulled a bag out of a lady�s hands, only to turn up its anteater nose at her baby�s food.

Iguassu Falls is a highlight-reel destination in South America. Whether you stay in Puerto Iguaz� in Argentina or Foz do Igua�u in Brazil (where it�s cheaper) and only border hop for the day in order to take in both sides, then customs formalities are minimal. Or there�s a Sheraton on the Argentine side with dashing views.

At vernal Iguassu National Park, the valves are wide open in a staggering demonstration of Nature�s force. By mingling with her children as they live in eco-harmony, you�ll understand better why people�s passions get raised over her rainforests. You�ll see this, and much more. Hopefully no jaguars.

This article was excerpted from Jim Soliski's travel book �Does Your Meter Work?!� For more information, click here.