Winding Down

The last two weeks of my trip have come and gone and now I find myself writing the final post of this trip. As I sit at home reflecting over the past three months, trying to distill my experiences down into meaningful lessons and stories, I have decided to move away from my traditional format of events and pictures and instead will attempt to summarize all that I have learned. 

Ditch the plan

Trust me, planning is overrated. Sure there are some necessary bits like finding a place to stay and figuring out how to get to the next city, but do yourself a favor and don't schedule out your time down to the minute. First of all, planning is exhausting, especially if you are traveling with others and are also confronted with the impossible task of making everyone happy. Secondly, and more importantly, over-planning can severely restrict the random encounters you participate in. Grabbing a couple of beers with a group of strangers you met at your hostel will probably be a way more memorable experience than seeing that church that looks exactly like every other church you have ever seen. 

Preparation is still important, however. I'm a type A personality so I feel the need to research but instead of scheduling out every day I like to simply prepare a list of things I would like to do and execute a certain number of those things in a given day. That way if something does come up you can always just shift the item you would have missed out on to the next day. This manner of preparation applies to attractions in a city, cities in a country, or even countries in a continent. Pat and I were on the fence about going to Bolivia but after hearing such rave reviews from a guy that we traveled with we decided that we had to go.

Be flexible; let random encounters happen and enjoy them to the fullest.

Never stop learning

This one may seem odd to some of you, as traveling is your time to escape the structure that learning implies. However, if you are like me, there comes a point where you get tired of simply experiencing and start to crave more active mental pursuits. I believe that one's waking hours can divided into two broad categories, one based in experiencing and one based in learning. Now of course these two categories bleed together, as there are experiences to appreciate while learning and lessons to be learned while experiencing, but what I am referring to are the segments of life where you set out to simply exist and appreciate versus those in which you choose to actively improve yourself. I think these two categories must always be in balance, as when you have too much of one you start to crave the other and then the pendulum swings the opposite way. This constant flux is not sustainable. Instead, time for both needs to be carved out every week. In order to appreciate one you need the presence of the other.

This is why I enjoyed blogging on this trip. It gave me a concrete skill to hone while soaking in the incredible experiences around me.

Be patient with yourself

This is an important corollary to the above. When learning a new skill there will come a point where things will get incredibly frustrating and giving up seems like an appealing option. These are the moments where it is crucial to take a step back and remind yourself why you chose to learn this skill in the first place. Nobody else is watching so it is up to you to keep yourself on track. 

When I first got to South America the process of learning Spanish was incredibly frustrating. To put it simply, I just felt dumb, unable to understand anybody around me. All I could do was continue to remind myself to focus on my progress rather than getting caught up on my failures. Not to say that my Spanish is great now but I am miles better than where I was three months ago when the only Spanish sentence I could put together was "Vamos a la playa."

Incorporate others

I consider myself an introvert so I was excited to have some time alone when I split up from Pat to go up to Huanchaco, a small, sleepy surfing town on the north side of Peru. It was nice for a couple of days, giving me time to relax and write but eventually I realized how much I missed having people around. Experiences are simply richer with a friend. Sometimes it's because the experience is difficult and you need a helping hand. Sometimes the way forward is ambiguous so you want another person to bounce ideas off of. Sometimes the day is just so damn beautiful and you want someone to share it with. This trip has given me a real appreciation for sharing experiences with others so thanks to Rigo, Ricardo, Marco, Elina, Lotem, Damir, Micha, Gavin, Audrey, and Pat for all the help during the bad times and laughs during the good ones.

Ask questions

I've come to the realization that I don't know shit. And neither does Trip Advisor. To really dig into a city you need to connect with the locals. They can lead you to the freshest ceviche served by an old lady of a shack, the best place to watch the sunset, and the best place to get cold lemonade on a hot sunny day. And it goes beyond just finding the best places, the satisfaction gained from engaging in a genuine human interaction with a complete stranger pays for itself. Plus the analysis paralysis that comes with choosing between all the 4.5 star restaurants in a city can be avoided by simply putting the decision in the hands of a stranger.

What's Next?

Luckily I don't have to immediately return to the real world of work and responsibilities. My brother Peter and I are going to be taking the John Wayne Pioneer Trail across Washington, me by bike and him running the entire thing. So essentially I have to play the role of pack mule. I couldn't be more excited for this trip though, as I will have plenty of time for reading, photography, and napping in the shade. I'll be gone for about two weeks but I'm excited to share the experience with you all when I get back. 

I want to give everyone a shout out for sticking with me and reading this blog, it means a ton to hear that people actually enjoy my ramblings and photography. I have found myself appreciating the process more than I ever thought I would so I will keep it going for the foreseeable future. Until next time, enjoy your summer to the fullest and keep on learning!

Peru

Peru, the final country of my trip. The home of the long-awaited Machu Picchu and the surrounding natural wonders that kept this lost city hidden from western eyes until 1911. Pat and I chose to take the Salkantay Trail, a 35 mile trek through mountain passes and jungle, over the traditional (and overbooked) Inca Trail to reach the mountain-capping city. Guides aren't required on the path that we took so we decided to do it 100% on our own considering that we had our own tent and all of the necessary cooking equipment. This was also our chance at Rinjemption, redemption from our failed attempt at climbing Mt. Rinjani in Indonesia last year.

Mt. Rinjani

Mt. Rinjani is a 12,000 ft peak on the island of Lombok, the easterly neighbor of Bali in Indonesia. Last year Micha, Pat, and I made this our adventure goal of our trip to the area, lugging around a tent and cooking equipment for a week so we could accomplish it on our own. Normally if you are going to climb this mountain you hire a guide service who takes all necessary supplies up for you using porters like this:

These guys lug these loads up the slippery, muddy mountainside in flip flops at best, carrying things like pineapples and cookies up while their eventual consumers tote light day packs. I really don't believe in letting someone else shoulder my burden like this, especially when the guide companies only pay them a few dollars for each load. This meant that Pat, Micha, and I loaded up our own packs and made the trek through the mud and rain up to the rim of the crater, about 3000 feet from the top.

Once up here we foolishly ignored the local advice to wake up at midnight and start the climb early, instead choosing to wake up with the sun at six. When we awoke the weather was absolutely stunning; the peak was clearly visible and we could see all the way down the mountain out to the ocean. Some clouds were slowly rolling in but we paid them no mind. About 30 minutes into the climb one of the guides stopped us and urged us to return to our camp, claiming that our stuff wasn't safe. Unsettled by this we reluctantly set off back down. 

Upon arriving in camp we saw that our tents were completely untouched but unfortunately by that time clouds had settled over most of the peak, obscuring the view. A bit disheartened, we sat down to have a small bite to eat, never expecting what would come next. One of us had left a bag of freeze-dried phad thai outside of our tent, vulnerable to the grips of wily monkeys. As I'm looking over, I see an old, gnarled monkey, clearly the leader of his people, creep up, grab the bag, rip it open, and begin to feast on its innards. As he's enjoying his breakfast, his entire extended clan appears over the crest of the hill and starts wreaking havoc on our camp. They scatter all of our trash around the campsite, scrounging for bits of sustenance ranging from rice kernels to discarded chicken bones. They even infiltrated our tents looking for food! I kid you not, I saw one monkey go up to our currently unoccupied tent, lift up the rain fly, unzip the tent, reach into my backpack, grab a packet of ramen, zip the tent back up, and proceed to rip open the ramen and devour its contents. There must have been 40 monkeys swarming the campsite at this point with us fruitlessly trying to chase them off with pots and pans, all while the neighboring Indonesian guides looked at the scene in disgust. 

Eventually, after running out of food to steal, the monkeys scampered off. By this point it had started to rain again and we were quite downtrodden and exhausted after the turns this day had taken. We decided to head down in defeat, retreating to the warm sandy beaches and fruity alcoholic drinks that this island chain had promised us. 

This trek to Machu Picchu was to be our redemption. With no monkeys on the forecast we felt like we had relatively high chances of success. But we needed to prepare.

Our first full day in Cuzco was spent gathering necessary supplies for this endeavor, including tickets to Machu Picchu, tickets for the train out, and enough food to sustain us for four days. Wanting to eat healthy, we bought plenty of vegetables to add to our dinners and eggs to hard-boil for breakfast. The problem was that once we got back to our hostel we realized that the guest-usable kitchen was closed down for repairs and the only functioning one was the one used by the restaurant. We asked for a couple of cutting boards and for them to boil our eggs for us but they quickly handed us hair nets and ushered us inside. Being inside of a restaurant kitchen added an extra energy to the whole process so we got everything done in good time.

We weren't nearly as stoked to pile everything into our packs. By the time we loaded up our food, sleeping bags, clothes, water, and a bottle of pisco each pack weighed at least 50 pounds. It would be slow going until we ate off some of this weight.

We caught a taxi that night to Mollepata, the last decent-sized town before the start of the trail. We tried to hail another car to take us the remaining distance to the trailhead but the town was completely dead when we got there. Instead we stayed a night in a room that smelled slightly like a barn, endeavoring to wake up at five to check for taxis then.

Day 1: Soraypampa -> Humantay Lake -> Andenes Camp

Five rolled around, still no taxis. Went back back to bed for an hour and by that time a couple of people were ready to give us rides. The car that we ended up in did not have any seat belts so the choppy road in threw us all over the place. We did make it in one piece to the trailhead and were greeted by a sunny day that immediately demanded sunglasses and sunscreen. Our first stop was Humantay Lake, a short excursion up about 1000 feet that was made quick by the fact that we could leave our behemoth packs at the bottom. At the top we encountered a beautiful blue-green lake rimmed by sheer mountain faces, decorated on the fringes by wildflowers and colorful shrubs. We had a quick breakfast of hardboiled eggs and granola bars at the top, taking solace in the fact that we were already above the clouds. How hard could it be to get to the top of the pass when we are already all the way up here?

Turns out, pretty damn hard. We raced down to the bottom, flying past people just now setting out for the lake. Once our packs were back on our shoulders, however, things slowed down considerably. We both plugged in our headphones early on and I quickly ratcheted thing up from podcasts to Kanye to good old steady house music. The beginning wasn't so bad but after a while the altitude started to get to me. Breathing through a straw while weighing a million pounds is certainly character building, especially when you have to contend with seemingly infinite switchbacks. Mt. Salkantay growing ever larger in the background did provide much needed moral support and as it got closer the more I realized how intimidating this mountain really is. Sitting at 20,574 ft, this is by far the largest mountain I have ever gotten to experience up close. With such shear faces debris comes rumbling off of it constantly, adding to intimidation factor.

Those last couple of hundred feet to the top were certainly the hardest. Both of us fell into the pace of 10 steps, rest, 10 steps, rest, punctuated all the way by pursed-lip high-altitude breathing. Seeing tours breeze along in day packs brought a strange mix of jealousy and superiority but by the time we reached the summit these feelings had solidified into raw pride and solace in the fact that we wouldn't have to touch any uphill for the whole rest of the day.

Never has a more glorious lunch been had. In the shadow of the mountain we feasted on salami, cheese, and mayo sandwiches with a little peanut butter and jelly action for desert. We took some much needed rest while listening to rocks crash down the mountain face. It all ended too soon though as we both decided that we should get moving and cover the remaining nine miles before it got too dark.

We travelled far down a valley, staying parallel to the water trickling down while dropping 5000 ft. We settled into a silent pace, letting our knees take the slow buildup of abuse a long descent like this one heaps upon them. We stopped a few times to catch our breath and fill up water from passing streams.

Once the sun set behind the hills and the trail started to get faint we knew that it was time to look for a campsite. I slipped off my pack and went down a small hill to inspect a small patch of flat grass that looked promising. In this short period without my pack I felt like I might fly away if I jumped too hard. Never have I felt so light! This feeling gave me the much needed energy to continue after that spot turned out to be less than ideal due to a large pile of pig poop directly in the middle of the plot.

We eventually spied some terraces off to our right and after looking around for a bit to check if anyone would stop us we hopped a fence, which was more a pile of branches and made our way onto the flat grass. Unfortunately in the process of hopping the fence I broke one of the branches, although, to be honest, the pile didn't look much worse for wear. As we were preparing to camp I felt something on the back of my neck and turned around, seeing nothing. I peered into the woods at the far end of the yard and thought I saw someone but after I waved and got no response I shrugged it off and continued setting up the tent.

After setting up the tent I proceed to gather up all of our cooking supplies and head over to a rock that looks suitable for the purpose. As I turn around I see a man on the terrace below, face shadowed by the brim of his hat, staring up at us and saying nothing. A simple "hola?" was met with a tense silence. Pat asked him if it is alright that we camp here for the night and he responded with further stares. Eventually he walks away, muttering that it is indeed alright that we camp there. Pat and I look each other and start weighing the possibility of being murdered by this strange old man against how tired we are. Exhaustion won out and we decided to stay put, resolving to wake up early so we wouldn't have to deal with this creepy figure again.

About 30 minutes later we hear a screeching yell behind us. Our friend has discovered that we broke his fence and he is pissed. We help him get it back into place as best we can but he still storms off, waking up some of his friends to tell them what we have done. At this point we decide that we just have to confront the situation head on and go talk to the people that he has woken up. We meet a man on the trail, who turns out to be the nephew of the man we have severely pissed off, and he instantly tells us not to worry. He tells us that his uncle is a little crazy and that he will calm down soon but in the meantime it is fine to keep our camp where it is. Relieved, we return to our dinner and laugh about the whole situation, still praying that he doesn't choose to exact his revenge in the middle of the night. Eventually we turn in and out of pure exhaustion fall asleep almost instantly.

In the middle of the night I hear a strange tearing sound from outside our tent. Instantly my mind jumps to the old man but as I wake up I realize that it is coming from a couple of feet away, near where we cooked our dinner. I unzip the tent and go outside to investigate and see a boar feasting on grass. Somewhat relieved, I gathered most of the stuff it might want to eat, brought it into the tent, and went back to sleep.

Day 2 Andenes Camp -> Ccapac Nan

When I woke up I realized that I had forgotten to grab both the baby wipes and our trash, as both were scattered throughout the grass. After gathering up the mess I noticed that the boar was still there, except now she had been joined by her three little boar babies. As we were having breakfast and packing up camp I could notice the mama boar getting continually more and more bold, resisting our attempts to shoo her away from our stuff. Eventually she made a break for it, grabbing a ziploc that held my toothbrush and toothpaste and running deep into the woods. Then she came back and proceeded to scatter our trash everywhere once again, aided by her ugly little piglets. At this point I was starting to get some serious flashbacks to Rinjani and realized that nature will screw with you anywhere you go, the annoyances just come in different forms. We finally gathered up all of our stuff and got the hell out of there just as another boar family was showing up to feast on the easy pickings. It stung that the momma boar would end up with stellar oral hygiene while I was left with flossing for the next three days. 

We descended through the remainder of the valley until it was intersected by a river. We followed this river north along a trail that alternated between steep inclines and knee-busting declines. I had thought that this would be an easy day with a slow gradual descent but the trail-makers clearly had something else in mind.

The trail did keep things interesting however. Between crossing through old landslide zones and fighting through lush jungle we always had something to look at. Plus, between our packs lightening up and us getting more used to hiking we were able to start making pretty good time.

Saw a group of six head up here for lunch. Never saw them afterwards...

Towards the end of the day we were following a beat-up van up a hill when suddenly it braked and started reversing. When it showed no signs of stopping we jumped out of the way and watched it roll into a ditch, smashing its back bumper up against the hill side. We helped the guy out by pushing from the back so he could get out of the rut and give the hill another go but once he was free he simply could not get the van up the hill. At some point one of the tires would just lose traction and he would proceed to spin out until he was forced to retreat back down to the bottom of the hill to try again. Pat and I ended up getting into the van and positioning ourselves directly over the back wheels so he might have enough traction to pull through. After a couple of failed attempts he tried one last time, revving the car hard in first gear until he crested the hill, passing a line of laughing onlookers backed up by this whole situation.

Once our services were no longer necessary we waved goodbye to the guy but ran into him further up the road enjoying this view. The man had a look of deep content and pride on his face while he enjoyed his perch. I'm just glad we got the chance to help the guy achieve his goal.

Local carwash

We ended the day a bit early at a campsite with a shower and some of the strongest coffee I have ever had. It felt liberating washing off the multiple layers of insect repellant, sunscreen, and sweat after a long day, even if the shower was only a couple steps above icy. We rested easy in the fact that there would likely not be any boars here and after eating a dinner of slightly crunchy quinoa, vegetables, and hotdogs, went to bed knowing that the hardest part of the trail was behind us.

Day 3 - Ccapac Nan -> Aguas Calientes

Woke up with a cup of coffee that left me feeling buzzed for two hours. Maybe it was just the excitement at getting to see Machu Picchu for the first time today but I think something else might have been added to that coffee. Today's section had us climbing a thin trail alternating between stone stairs and dirt to reach Llacta Pata a small cluster of Incan ruins that provided direct views of Machu Picchu.

We took a nice long siesta in this spot, admiring the views and speculating on what the city itself would be like. On Machu Picchu there are two supplementary hikes that can be done: Huayna Picchu on the north side and Mount Machu Picchu on the south. We chose Mount Machu Picchu knowing that it would be longer but seeing the comparison now with the condition we were in left us slightly regretting our decision. We just had to hope that we would gain some superhuman strength without our heavy packs for the final push to the top. All we had left for today was a descent back down the other side of the hill to Hidroelectrica where we would catch a train to Aguas Calientes, traveling around the mountain that holds Machu Picchu. 

Once we arrived at the train station we had plenty of time to shrug off our bags and enjoy a couple of cold beverages. The backpacking section of our trip was now over and all we had left were a couple of easy hikes up to Machu Picchu and the mountain above. We met a couple of guys who also did the trek unguided and we laughed at how good it felt to be done with the hard stuff. After A quick train ride we disembarked in Aguas Calientes and found a campsite at the very foot of the trail that would take us to Machu Picchu. 

After making a quick dinner with the last of the vegetables that were quickly losing their freshness, we settled on a no-questions 4 AM wakeup time so we could make it up to the top by sunrise.

Day 4 - Machu Picchu

We almost questioned 4 AM when it rolled around but dragged ourselves out of our sleeping bags after we reminded ourselves of what today had in store for us. We had a quick breakfast of hardboiled eggs and granola bars, not wanting to waste time heating up water for tea. On backpacking trips meals tend to become pretty repetitive as this just makes the logistics easier. The first meal is always a novelty, the second and third start to make the food feel a little tedious and boring, but by the forth it almost becomes comforting, part of the ritual that you have settled into. This last breakfast felt exactly like that and left me feeling ready for the final push.

We had expected lines but had no idea that there would be a line all the way down at the base of the mountain. When we arrived at 4:45 there were already around 200 people waiting to hike up, which apparently didn't open until 5. We kicked around the remaining 15 minutes but once the trail opened up you could feel an electricity jet through the crowd. People acted like this was the race of their lives and started practically running up the stairs. Well after about three flights the crowd really started to thin out with the majority of people panting at the side of the road talking about how hard this is. That left the slow and steady troopers who kept the same single-file pace all the way up, occasionally interrupted by the extra eager individual passing around switchbacks in order to be five or six slots in front of you in the line at the top.

As predicted, the top was packed as well. People with flags and wacky hats scattered throughout the crowd gave the whole thing a strange music festival feel. The line moved relatively fast however and once we were inside things thinned out significantly.

What immediately struck me about Machu Picchu is how big this place is. All of the other Incan ruins we have visited thus far have just been a collection of houses but this place is a legitimate city. Rows of buildings and well-organized terraces stretch off into the distance and at this hour of the morning most of the area was so far untouched by tourists.

We had the early time slot for Machu Picchu Mountain so we didn't have much time to enjoy the ruins before we had to begin our next climb. It wasn't as bad as it looked from the viewpoint, just a bunch of stairs, but I know that this being a relatively low elevation for me compared to the last 3 weeks helped a ton. I talked to a New Zealander on the way up who was struggling hard, just having flown in from the beaches of Mexico. 

When I rounded the final corner and saw the summit my breath left me. All it took was a few more steps and Rinjemption was achieved. We swapped out the monkeys for boars and didn't have to deal with the heavy tropical rain of Indonesia but this hike definitely took a lot, especially completing it without a guide. I took a second to let this feeling soak in and enjoy the panoramic view that lay before us. At this point no one below was even visible, leaving the ruins abandoned in my eyes.  

After a lunch where we threw rationing to the wind we turned around and descended down to the main ruins. The stairs on the way down felt quite dangerous; I can't even imagine doing this descent in the rain. I saw multiple people going on all fours and honestly I don't blame them at all. These steps are 18 inches high and less than six incheswide in some places with a steep drop off on the right-hand side. We made it down safely though and were luckily able to link up with a tour at the bottom.

Our tour guide led us through the history of Machu Picchu and gave us some interesting facts on how the Incan Empire functioned, including some information on the forms of human sacrifice the practiced that I'll get into later. I really appreciated that he highlighted the craftsmanship of the stone blocks around Machu Picchu, especially those used in the religious sites. These massive blocks had been sanded down to fit each other so preciselythat you can't slide a piece of paper between them. And these fittings completely eschewed mortar, solely relying on the weight of the stone and the tightness of the fit for stability.

This little guy was born at 8:30 AM the morning that we got there, just 3 hours before we saw him!

After spending over six hours here we decided to head back down the stairs to our campsite. Such an incredible place and absolutely deserves its spot on the 7 New Wonders of the World. Having it as the destination for a long backpacking trip like the Salkantay Trail made it feel even more significant, embodying a little bit of the lost city feel that it's discoverers must have felt. 

With all of this over with I took a much needed nap in the sun. When I woke I felt free and content. It felt like the first day of summer vacation. I didn't have a care in the world and felt like I had earned a couple of days relaxing before stirring up the next adventure.

After taking the train halfway back to Cusco, an interesting experience in and of itself filled with dancers and attendants participating in fashion shows, we hopped in a taxi headed towards Cusco with a couple and forced them to listen to ALL of our stories. 

The following day held nothing but relaxation and ping-pong. We ended up celebrating with some friends we met up on Machu Picchu at the Museo de Pisco where this old man gave the performance of his life. People from the crowd were jumping in to play various instruments (I had a quick stint pounding on a jawbone of some massive animal) and this old man jumped up on the table to sing the Spanish version of Twist and Shout. Absolute legend. 

Cusco

Cusco is far from just the gateway to Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley. It itself has a rich architectural and religious heritage that vibrantly displays itself. It seems like the central plaza hosts a massive religious parade every single day and the churches are brilliantly contrasted by ancient Incan ruins.

I slightly regret not trying guinea pig in Cusco but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The one restaurant that I went to that had it had a picture on the menu and its really the full deal. They don't take the head off or anything and I couldn't look at the little guy in the face while eating him. I've heard fantastic things about it though, tasting a bit like duck. If any of you try it, let me know how it really is.

Arequipa

Pat and I had our final stop together in the city of Arequipa in southern Peru. Our main reason for coming here was to visit Colca Canyon, one of the deepest canyons in the world, but the city itself had plenty of attractions to see as well. The cathedral in Arequipa was beautiful (and the only attraction that I was actually able to take pictures of inside) but I thought the real highlight was Santa María's Museum which housed the body of a 500 year-old mummy named Juanita. Juanita was a young child of about 12 that was sacrificed and subsequently buried on top of Mt. Ampato. Sacrifices like this one were performed in an attempt to please the gods in order to quell their anger and receive favorable weather. Incan priests would scour the entire empire for the most perfect children, parade them for hundreds of miles, hike up high mountain peaks in essentially flip-flops, and sacrifice them after drugging them with chicha, an alcoholic drink made from corn. This practice seems incredibly brutal to us but these people were truly at the mercy of the weather, which they personified as angry gods that could only be placated by human blood. Maybe on some level this practice began as a way to cull the population during times of hardship. Whatever the reason, its a fascinating subject to consider and begs the question why this practice arose in some areas of the world but not others. 

Colca Canyon

Colca Canyon is about four hours outside of Arequipa so to get there we signed up for a tour that left at 3 AM. The night before we popped into the bar of our hostel to watch the NBA playoff game that was supposed to be on but the staff couldn't figure out how to get it on so we got roped into drinking instead. A couple of Australians talked us into playing a dice game that results in the loser buying everyone a round of shots. After a couple of gamest we took turns spinning the wheel which could result in a free drink or something like dancing on the bar. Over the course of the night I saw a girl take a body shot out of the belly button of a short, hairy Indian guy and found myself getting spanked on top of the bar. Fun stuff. 

3 AM rolled around and I think Pat woke me up 5 times before I finally got the message. I made it out to the van and tried to sleep on the way there but the tiny seats didn't provide much comfort. The first stop of the tour was a very hungover group breakfast consisting of about half an egg, two pieces of bread, and an aggressive amount of instant coffee. Ever drink coffee and feel that its trying to draw fuel out of an empty tank? That's where I was at that moment and the only thing that could draw me out of my stupor was some sun and a little hiking.

The hike took us deep into the canyon where we got multiple lessons on the condors and plants of the area. The best stop was definitely a small museum at the bottom that had a sample of local liquors, including one that is brewed with a dead snake inside of it. Honestly not half bad but definitely packs a punch.

After hiking a couple of miles on the floor of the canyon we reached a small cluster of buildings referred to as Sangalle or simply The Oasis. We spent a bit of time decompressing in the pool but since the sun had gone behind the rim we couldn't stand the chilly water for long. Our lodgings were cozy but minimal, a single lightbulb hanging over two beds built for hobbits. The owners of the resort kept pushing happy hour on us but we politely declined, not wanting to repeat our mistakes of the night before. We turned into bed early to prepare ourselves for an early 4 AM wakeup and the subsequent hike that would bring us out of the canyon.

The early morning hike was chilly and dark but on the way up we were rewarded by a beautiful sunrise that just sliced the rim of the canyon. As soon as I reached the top and stopped moving I started freeze almost immediately, my sweat stained shirt channeling all of my body heat to the chilly air surrounding me. I found a spot in the sun and even managed to nap a little before the rest of the group caught up.

The rest of the tour consisted of llamas and hot springs, much needed stops on the way back to break up the long drive. I unfortunately didn't have enough cash to enter the hot springs but I did manage to find a perfectly shaped rock out in the middle of the river that provided a spot to nap and reflect upon the last two and a half months of this trip. You see, this was Pat and I's last day together before I headed off to the northern end of Peru while Pat made his way to Lima in order to fly to Brazil. It's hard to compact such a long period of time into concrete thoughts, there's no way to really summarize it without telling the whole story.

What I do know is that a particular type of friendship emerges from spending such a long time with another person. You realize that communication is crucial, any problems that you have should be aired out as soon as possible in an upfront manner that does not seek to accuse the other person. And when the other person brings up their issues it is up to you to listen to those issues in the most constructive way possible instead of getting offended. Luckily Pat and I were always upfront with each other from the start which allowed us to work past any problems that came up, allowing us to cut out all the bullshit and just enjoy the trip together. 

It's a hard thing saying bye to someone that you have spent nearly three months with mountain-biking down the worlds most dangerous road, crashing cars into ditches, exploring dangerous terrain, party-hosteling, eating 19-course meals, and hiking all the way to the ruins of Machu Picchu. All I know is that this won't be the last trip and there is plenty more time for future shenanigans. 

Bolivia

The Border

There are two main ways to get into Bolivia from the Atacama: take a bus or hop on a tour of the Uyuni Salt Flats that leaves from San Pedro de Atacama. Our original plan was to just take the bus into Bolivia and then hire a tour there, where it reportedly is cheaper, but we found out too late that no busses were scheduled for the day we wanted to leave. Since Micha and Gavin had a limited amount of time left we decided to just hire the tour so we could start on things a day earlier. 

We piled into a van bright and early, making our first stop at the exit station between Chile and Bolivia. Borders down here work a little differently than those in the US and most of Europe. There is no one point that you pass that transitions you from one country to the next. Instead, you have to make it past the exit station of a country, drive through a bit of no-mans land, and then enter your destination country. 

Our first problem appeared at the Chilean exit station. Pat, somewhere within Chile, had lost his PDI paper, a small, inconspicuous receipt that they stamp on your way in and way out of Chile. He had talked to some immigration officers back in San Pedro de Atacama that assured him that he would be fine but that did not stand up to the officers at the border who claimed that he had talked to the officers in green uniforms and not those in blue uniforms, whatever the hell that means. Some heated words were exchanged and eventually they just told Pat to leave the country, making some vague threats that he would never be able to return.

South American Lesson #1: Hold on to every single slip of paper that people in charge hand to you. You never know when it might come up again.

The entrance point to Bolivia was where the real shit show began. US citizens need a visa to enter into Bolivia and this visa costs $160. We had plenty of US currency but the problem was that it wasn't in absolutely mint condition. If a bill has a single rip, smudge, or crease, they are likely to reject it. By the end of things I found myself with two viable 20 dollar bills out of ten, needing to cover the remaining $120 somehow. Luckily I was able to piece together enough between some Bolivianos I had converted previously and a large loan of Chilean Pesos that I received from a very friendly French couple we traveled with on this tour. A shaky start to the morning but I was beyond relieved now that we were all through safely. 

South American Lesson #2: Only bring crisp bills down here, preferably new hundreds. Its not a great feeling to have money in your wallet only to be told that it is trash.

The problem with this whole situation was that Micha, Gavin, and Pat had each pitched in some of their previously converted Bolivianos towards getting the group through the border so after the dust settled we had 50 Bolivianos, or about $7, across the four of us until we made it to Uyuni, a town three days away. I had heard Bolivia was cheap and I just had to hope that was doubly true.

The Tour: Day 1

After making it through all of that I was ready to enjoy the nature of Bolivia. We started out with a couple of relatively unimpressive lagunas before making it up to the Sol de Mañana geyser field. What really made this place special was the number of paint pots, or pools of boiling mud that ranged from grey to bright red.

There were also minimal rules surrounding these geysers and mud pools. While the geyser field in Chile had fences that kept people away from the geysers, here you could walk right up to them. One of them you could even walk up to and stick your face in the steam. Would not recommend this at all, it is an extremely disorienting and terrifying experience. Maybe those fences aren't such a bad idea...

Our next stop completed one of my main goals for this trip: see flamingos in the wild! This laguna definitely did not disappoint as there must have been thousands of them, all eating the algae that gives them their distinct color. 

The Tour: Day 2

Started our day off at the edge of an ancient lava flow that has been eroded into a twisted series of walls and columns by wind and rain, giving us all a chance to practice our rock climbing skills. Many of these giant monuments looked insurmountable from the front but oftentimes a peek around the back revealed an easy, sloped route to the top.

The next stop brought us to Laguna Negra where we embarked on a short hike, although no hike at 15,000 feet feels particularly short. Luckily I was able to find the perfect chair-shaped rock along the way to rest in:

At one point along the hike we got absolutely swarmed by llamas who were out for lunch:

My personal favorite 

After having enough hiking for the day we hopped back in the car and drove to our last spot of the day, a town that was abandoned except for a bar. Naturally Pat spent 40% of our worldly wealth on a beer here. I hope it was the best beer you've ever had, Pat.

The town itself was quite creepy, dominated by three massive grain silos and a couple of abandoned trains. The outskirts even host a graveyard to complete the ambiance. This town must have been at one point some sort of major railway stop that has since disappeared from existence. 

The Tour: Day 3

Finally, the Uyuni Salt Flats. This place is simply unreal, especially it at sunrise where the thin layer of water over the salt provides for a perfectly reflective surface. Easily top two sunrises of my life, only rivaled by the sun coming up through the clouds while I was camped above them on Mt. Rainier. 

As the sun rose we raced along the flats with all of the other tours, feeling a bit like we were in Mad Max. When the sun was fully up we had made it to a spot where you could see nothing but white in all directions. This completely flat landscape made for the perfect spot for strange perspective pictures where lining up the fore and background can produce some interesting visual effects:

Our last notable stop was the train graveyard just outside the town of Uyuni, an expanse of land where steam engines and boxcars have come to rest. This really rounded out the post-apocalyptic Fallout vibe that the town yesterday initiated. I've always been fascinated with scenes like this; there is just something beautifully sad about an object that was at one point such a centerpiece of peoples' lives sitting unused, crumbling back into dust.

With this, our final stop of the tour, we found ourselves in Uyuni, the site of the much fabled ATM. With money in hand and plenty of time to kill we grabbed a couple of beers and played guillotine, our favorite and only card game, at one of the local cafes. One thing led to another and we found ourselves a little tipsy on the night bus heading to La Paz. Oh well, that's really the only way to get any sleep on these busses anyways.

La Paz

Our arrival in La Paz was less than graceful. We stumbled out of the bus at 4:30 in pitch darkness feeling like all hell from the day before. Luckily we booked a night in a party hostel so we were bound to get some quality sleep in before daybreak came around. Since our room wasn't ready yet we crashed in the TV room, which was supposed to be closed for the night. About an hour later a group comes roaring into the room, flips on the lights, sees us sleeping there, and asks if we can leave. After we are tell them no and while they are trying to bargain with just watching Netflix with us in there with them, I squint through my sleepy haze and recognize one of them as a drunk guy we stayed with all the way back in Buenos Aires. Small world in the party hostel scene I guess. 

La Paz is quite the interesting city. Filled with hills and cable cars, the real estate situation here is opposite that of most other areas of the world. In most cities you pay more for the views but up here, due to the highest points being above 14,000 ft, you pay for the oxygen, resulting in the most prominent neighborhoods being located at the lowest points. The gondolas connecting these hills are incredibly modern and by far the best way to travel around and see the city. One of our rides took us over an open-air market that stretched for at least two miles down a single avenue and branched off far down several side streets as well. I've never seen anything like it and I can't even comprehend how much human effort it took to set so many tents up.

La Paz is also the seat of the Bolivian government, including Bolivian's president Evo Morales. A controversial figure, this man has done much for the indigenous population of Bolivia while promoting certain environmentalist policies. On the other hand, according to our walking tour guide, he is establishing himself as a bit of a dictator with some very friendly views towards the coca plant. The coca plant is a very important part of the culture of indigenous peoples and I totally support him advocating its use for traditional and medicinal reasons, but when a prison located a couple of blocks from your office has several functional and well-known cocaine laboratories within it, something is a little fishy. Seriously, look up San Pedro prison, its a fascinating place. Apparently you used to be able to, and probably still can if you talk to the right people, bribe the guards of the prison and take tours of the place, earning yourself a little souvenir bag of the white stuff for your troubles. This is all according to our walking tour guide so I can't verify if its still true or not but it makes for a fascinating story and in fact there is at least one book out there from the perspective of someone who stayed in the prison for several weeks of his own accord.

Death Road

Obviously we couldn't resist checking something called the Death Road out. This road, which used to kill an estimated 200-300 people a year before a new paved road was put in, makes for an excellent mountain bike trip that provides for nearly 40 miles of downhill riding in total. Rimmed by several cliffs multiple hundreds of feet tall with nary a guard rail in sight, this road really made me grip the hell out of the brakes, at least until I put on Rage Against the Machine and gained a little more confidence. Still, every cross that we passed was a chilling reminder that this road is no joke and we even saw the body of a van laying at the bottom of one cliff, a friend of our guide that had died just a couple of months earlier. If you go to La Paz you absolutely have to try this out but for your sake don't get overconfident.

Food in La Paz

We had two life-changing culinary experiences in La Paz. The first was the best choripan, which is essentially a hotdog in a hamburger bun, I have ever had. Seriously, if you are in La Paz go to the Red Line's Estación Central, go outside of the station and turn right where you first see a line of street vendors. Four stalls down you'll see a no-nonsense lady ready to deep fry chorizo and serve you up some deliciousness. Don't forget the green spicy sauce which really pulls it all together.

The second experience was dinner at Gustu, one of the finest restaurants in La Paz and currently number 28 on Latin America's 50 best restaurants. Here we indulged in a 19 course meal complete with drink pairings, experiencing Bolivian cuisine from all angles. Since I'm basic, I took pictures of every single course so I could walk you through all of them:

Aged parmesan wrapped in a tortilla 

Six-month aged ham and pickled fig (bone just for presentation)

Boiled oxtail covered in quinoa

Baby carrots with aioli and muesli  

Fried kale with fermented miso sauce. First kale I have ever liked, which, I maintain, is solely a garnish for Pizza Hut salad bars

Mushroom soup poured over noodles

Beef heart cooked on a salt block accompanied by peanut sauce

Alligator tail sourced from the Amazon topped by pickled watermelon rind and strawberry 

Three different types of quinoa on a bed of mint sauce

Heart of palm covered in banana balsamic vinegar 

Local Bolivian potatoes, onions, and other vegetables in chicken sauce

Trout from Lake Titicaca accompanied by fried kelp also from Lake Titicaca 

Pig ears in miso sauce. As you can see I got a little too excited and started eating this one before I snapped a pic.

Pork over grilled pineapple

Otter pops

Sorbet over açaí sauce

White chocolate three different ways with raspberries  

Mushroom ice cream with basil sauce

The first good coffee I've had in months accompanied by chocolates 

All of this along with the variety of cocktails, wines, and liqueurs they provided us made for a symphony of flavors that left us all quite satisfied. 

After this legendary last supper it was time to say goodbye to Micha and Gavin. These two came down practically on a whim and I am beyond thankful that they did. It feels very meaningful making these sorts of memories, the ones that we will talk about for years, with friends that will stay in my life for a long time to come.

And with this Pat and I are alone for the first time in nearly two months. In fact we have only spent four days unaccompanied by anyone else on this trip, a fact that we never expected coming into this trip. We head into Peru next for our big expedition of the trip: the Salkantay trek and Machu Picchu!

I'll leave you with a couple of pictures of Copacabana and Isla del Sol, an island located in the middle of Lake Titicaca: