Meet the Green Heart of Belize: Chiquibul National Park 

The Chiquibul, Belize’s famed 414-square-mile rainforest, is never just a destination—it’s also a symbol for Belizean sovereignty and ecological wealth. Between the squishes of spongy, leaf-covered ground underfoot and the dissonance of screeching squawks with revving cicadas lies a prelapsarian Eden of astonishing plenitude—spanning roughly the same size as Barcelona, Spain. When Belizeans think of the Chiquibul, they picture a densely impenetrable, humid tunnel of green. As Belize’s largest terrestrial protected area covering 8% of the country, they would partly be right. 

Despite the first three quarters of 2025 seeing more than 50,000 overnight visitors to the Cayo District, many don’t venture past the paved road to Caracol, making Chiquibul a sight few travelers ever witness. 

As the green heart of the country with its dense riparian forest and charily-carved karst columns, we challenge you to explore beyond the borders of ‘black-and-white’ for the sake of lush biodiversity and conservation. You’ll inadvertently help ensure this animated yet threatened swath can be ethically experienced, but most importantly, protected. 

A Beauty Beyond Valuation 

Flanked by eleven other protected areas and abutting the Belize-Guatemala border, a visit to the Chiquibul is singular—you get an entirely different perspective on Belize’s largest rainforest, along with its heaviest challenges. Together, the Chiquibul Forest Reserve, Chiquibul National Park, and Caracol Archaeological Reserve form the magnificent Chiquibul Forest. 

Off the bat, there’s a handful of historic one-liners that demand your respect. Headwaters within form the country’s most important watershed, providing fresh water for 40% of all Belizeans. At 285,937 acres, Chiquibul National Park (CNP) is the country’s largest protected area, with geological brags galore, because the forest doesn’t just bury the largest cave network in Central America, but a striking Natural Arch, jade-colored sinkholes, and caverns too. And Caracol’s cultural reverence as a once-powerful Maya city in the height of Mesoamerica must be experienced—from atop its 141-foot Sky Temple–to be truly understood.

But the most iconic and elusive stars of the Chiquibul are found shrouded within Belize’s green heart: crimson flutters of the rare Scarlet Macaw subspecies above, and the purr of all five of the country’s wildcats below. From its old-growth trees with dangling lianas to the grass below, Chiquibul isn’t only a haven for wildlife species or a living, breathing pocket of clean air: it’s also a hub for research, education, and yes, avid adventure. 

Sallying behind the Scarlet Macaw

With an estimated 25-50 parrots lost to poaching every year and an estimated ~350 birds remaining in the wild, saving a single individual Scarlet Macaw can change the entire population’s future. Confined to the wild corridors of the Chiquibul, Belize’s subspecies of macaws nest in towering quamwood trees that line its riparian forests—but not without risk. Being this close to the Guatemala-Belize border, in this vast ecosystem, means macaws are targeted and ultimately stolen for the illegal pet trade. 

With a pair that mates for life and young chicks poached, the risk is that older birds will age out: breeding slows, and Belize’s subspecies population eventually collapses. It’s why the efforts of Friends for Conservation & Development (FCD), Chiquibul’s brave bodyguards, bridges the difference to unbridled, life-saving freedom. Boots on the ground, FCD rangers patrol more than 100,000 acres on foot—racing ahead to save monogamous birds from the edge of extinction! 

For seven months of the year, their presence alone is a deterrent to poachers, where staff monitors each macaw’s known nesting cavities, or preemptively saving the scarlets most at risk to rehome inside FCD’s lab, for in situ vet-led rearing to rehab and eventually, re-release back into the wild. In critical zones, they’ve managed to get eggs lost to poaching from 86% in 2008 to 0% today. Of the 21 nests monitored in 2024, a heartwarming 28 chicks took their first flight from the canopies above Chiquibul, while another 12 hand-reared chicks were released. 

Teetering The Path Less Taken

With a paved road now spanning directly to the Caracol Maya Site, the Chiquibul can (conveniently) be experienced like never before, sparking a new wave of interest in adventure eco-travel while preserving one of the planet’s most biodiverse ecosystems. It’s an expedition in itself—past Caracol Road, past the visitor’s center entrance booth, and past the Las Cuevas Research Center. But with every kilometer between civilization, the Chiquibul hugs you in her humid, awe-inspiring embrace. 

For the active, that may look like lacing up to hit the trails in community-driven events that fundraise for critical organizations, like FCD or Belize Wildlife & Referral Clinic, through The Chiquibul Challenge Marathon (CCM) or The Maya Mountain & Conservation Ultra Challenge. As a non-profit, non-governmental organization, donating—whether it’s your volunteered time, event support, or life-saving funds—to those that’s relentless in their research and refuge for Belize’s scarlet macaws. 

For the birders and eco-adventurers, booking a low-impact birdwatching tour in the Chiquibul or Red Bank Village, a choice destination during their feeding season, supports its stakeholders—whether directly or indirectly. These trips remind us that tourism can often be a smart way to help preservation’s cause. Crucially, choosing to go with the right tour operator secures a portion of their total spending will be funneled right back into conservation groups working for a common cause. Whether that’s a serene boat tour along its tributaries, an arduous trek to the echoing limestone Natural Arch formation, or witnessing the splattermites of cavities like Chiquibul’s Cebada cave.