Highest of Heights

Unless I'm in a plane, I'm fairly positive that the 6,088m (19,974ft) peak of Huyana Potosi is my highest of heights - forever. As competitive as I am, as much as most challenges inspire me to do them again, faster, longer, higher etc, this was no normal challenge for me and at this point, I believe I can cross it off my list. Climbing this mountain was the most dangerous, most difficult and most challenging experience of my life and whereas I am incredibly proud and excited to have successfully sumitted, I do not feel the usual desire to do it again. -Once in a life time-

The sirens call of adventure, the inexpensive pricetag and the persuasion of Migi, my Swiss friend who had been set on climbing this mountain for some time, combined to push me into the spontaneous decision, literally 15 min before closing time the night before. Am I crazy? I had no warm clothes and detest the cold, no experience except for a little ice climbing in college and in general feel somewhat out of shape, so what was I thinking?? This was no liesurly stroll!

We began early, getting fitted for gear. The agency provided everything from sleepingbag, ice pick, crampons and boots to gloves, pants and jackets. Next, our group of 4 Argentinians, a Swiss, a Dane and myself drove up to the base refuge set next to a pale teal pond, stopping on the way to admire the most unbelievable lake that I have ever seen. All colors of the rainbow as if from the imagination of a child with a box of crayons, not yet limited by reality.

After a hearty lunch, we tromped up to the nearest glacier, about an hour away to practice climbing techniques and get used to the equipment. The sun glistened off the ice crags as we cheered eachother on, I could barely contain my excitement - skipping is not so easy in crampons! :) On the walk back, the mists rolled in and once again I found myself in utter awe of my surroundings. Our reflections trekked across pastel mirror lakes and the setting sun warmed the mountains across the valley. That night, we were joined by 2 frenchmen and after dinner relaxed by the fire, played cards and enjoyed a good nights rest.

Day 2 was a day of aclimization so we didn't leave until after lunch. This time, with packs and full gear, we made the steep 3-4 hour hike above the snow line. This time, I could feel it. Once the clouds settled, the view dropped to just a few meters ahead and the slope must have been at least 60 degrees - phew! The second refuge turned out to be no more than a tiny tin hut with a small alcove to cook on a portable stove and 10 matress pads, 5 side to side below and 5 sqeezed together on a shelf above - for the 12 of us. No matter, I figured the sleepover setting would at least keep me warm. I stayed outside admiring the sheer beauty all around me after everyone else had gone in. The clouds lifted like the lid of a treasure chest and there, high above the valley, far away from most humans, plants and animals, everything seemed so alive! I could hear the ice and snow chattering away like rice crispies in milk, the breezes scurried from one valley to the next until brushing past me, both daring me to resist their chill and catch their message. Even the rocks seemed to whisper a story and I, in that place, felt so alive!

I stayed out until the late hour of 6:30pm and finally joined the others cuddled up in their sleepingbags. Unfortunately, I've never been one for much sleep and forcing myself to turn off at such and hour was impossible. The next 6 hours were miserable! It was too hot, believe it or not, getting bumped from both sides, severely dehydrated and the worst was being right under the skylight, condensation would collect and drop down on me, at least 8 times directly in the eye! Let me tell you, I was not feeling so alive when the 1am "wakeup" call came!

Like zombies, we slowly layered up, while battling the various demons of stomache, head and muscle aches, lack of sleep and our senses of reason and logic throwing up a white flag. Two climbers roped to a guide, we began the laborious climb 3 by 3. The slope varied between 40 and 75degrees, I followed Migi's boots in the 3ft wide glow of my headlamp and talked myself towards the peak's sillohette, slightly blacker than the black night sky. About an hour in, despite his magical coca bonbons and his will to continue, the altitude got the better of dear Migi and he was forced to concede along with one of the Argentinians. We shuffled guides and I found myself between Jose and Stefan - my new team.

Up, up, up we went, trudging through ice and snow. More often than I care to admit I had to stop to catch my breath and luckily I wasn't the only one. To keep myself focussed I even resorted to counting my steps, taking refuge in the fact that each one was that much closer and reminding myself that we'd be back by lunch time. Mmmm the motivation of soup! Several times, the guide would push us through a particular area due to the risk of splintering ice or rocks coming loose - we could actually hear the glacier cracking - another fantastic motivation!

As dawn approached, we leaped 4ft wide, deeper than I care to imagine, crevasses, tottered over 1ft wide ice bridges, picked our way up walls of massive icicles and it took every shred of will power to keep moving forward. A neon pink and orange band broke across the horizon and shed just enough light to allow us to appreciate the scenery we had been missing - so many mountains all around us and ours looming above. Almost there. One more heart-pounding, icicle-shattering climb and a short hike to the peak that barely fit the three of us and there I was! Standing at my highest of heights. I'd like to think it was the air pressure that squeezed a tear or two to the surface!

The details of the descent are mostly a blur, but I clearly remember the various ice formations, frozen turquoise cascades, spikey snow fields, black hole cravasses and smooth white slopes. I remember being simultaneously thrilled and exhausted and proud... and anxiously awaiting the bottom! We were back in La Paz around 4 and I was surprised that my personal batteries had any juice left in them. I was actually able to go out to a decent hour that night with friends before a lovely night's sleep.

The very next day I mountain biked down the world's most dangerous road - the "Death Road". Rain and fog and sunshine all made an appearance during the 75k mostly downhill ride through the jungle along a muddy, rocky one way road with a straight drop off of several hundred meters.
Next came a trip to Copa... Copacabana where music and passion are always the fashion :). It was a small tourist town with the historically signifigant island of the sun off it's lake Titicaca coast and fabulous trout. Then it was back to Peru! Ahh, what an adventure Bolivia was and although I am looking forward to relaxing a few days in Cusco, I hope to make it back there one day!

For more images from the mountain: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2020566&id=60100993&l=9cb985c1c8

Sugar and the Peace

Sweet, sweet Sucre was one exciting day after another! I felt so immediately comfortable in this bright city and coupled with their largest annual festival, a fantastic group of fellow travelers, good food and friendly locals, I would have loved to stay there indefinitely, soaking up more of that nectar.


I left Potosi with no idea where I would stay in Sucre. Perhaps somewhere near the bus station until I got my bearings? As usual though, things worked out and I spoke to the only other foreigner on the bus, a welshman named Adam, while waiting for our bags who had a recommendation of where to stay down town. Once we arrived, I noticed one of the guys that had been in my tour group in Potosi was also there, Migi from Switzerland, who was sitting with a german guy, Markus. Thus was the beginning of the Sucre gang. The told me of a festival that would be taking place that coming weekend and I promptly made plans to stay for the week.

What a week! I had plenty of time to relax during the days, exploring Sucre's green spaces, parks, view points, wide, clean streets, markets and plazas. There was always something going on, a concert, an exhibit etc and as more travelers from a couple hostels came together we had a nice big group to hit the clubs at night. One night, after Markus and Adam had both left, Migi and I were having dinner and we decided to play a game. Let's try to guess where every person in this restaurant is from. Sadly to say, I lost, but in the process, we made a couple new friends, a dutch couple, invited them over, the four of us ran into another two at the next bar and oh did the sugar-high ensue! The 6 of us nearly took over a place called Joy Ride (which would become our regular haunt). A couple of us girls got free drink tickets for dancing on the bar, but when Migi decided to try to dance on a bar stool, not only did he not last long, all he unfortunately got was our applause and laughter! Afterwards we went to an after hours bar where we danced the night away, Cary surprised me with his salsa moves and around 5am, our pre-pre-party came to a tired but expectant end.

The next day, after a good sleep-in, we lunched and the festival began around 2pm with mostly children's groups dancing through the streets. We wandered around, taking in the festivities, watching the people arrive, sampling street food, randomly meeting up with friends here and there. The parade continued until well after 2am when the last of us decided to end the pre-party. We needed some sleep before the real festival. I would love to write an entire entry on the society of travelers that you meet along your journey. How nice it is to recognize faces, share stories and tips with eachother and even share a little bit of one another's culture while experiencing the same exciting places. On any given night I might be out with people from 10+ different countries, relishing in the music, the dance, the new food together, as one big traveler cocktail! I adore this aspect of backpacking!

Finally Saturday came and the parade began around 8am! I spent a lazy sunny morning in the hostel courtyard, writing in my journal and listening to the music in the distance. Once we made it to the main square and before we found a good spot to take pictures, I was interviewed not once, but twice! First by a man with the best mustache I've seen since India speaking on an old fashioned phone for a radio broadcast in quechua ( I surprised him by pulling out a few of the words I'd learned) and then by a man conducting a broadcast from his cell phone! Such a contrast in technology. We settled down in the front row and could hardly draw ourselves away after nearly 5 hours! Every time we agreed we were hungry or needed to move, we said "Okay, just after this next group.", "We'll just wait 'til that fancy bunch with the wild costumes comes" or "those swirling ladies" or "those adorable dancing kids". One after another, we could just not believe how many people were participating, they just kept coming!! Once night fell, Cary and I scrambled up a pipe to sit in a window well, the best seats in the house :).

Dinner was once again, irresistible street food and then back to Joy Ride for the longest night of dancing in my life! The bar was empty when we arrived and we put that nice open floor to good use! I must have danced for 7 hours straight without pause - I was high with the exhilaration of the music and the company :). Once the place was too crowded to move, we hit the streets, yes the parade was still in full swing around 2am and we joined the mayhem for a while longer. What a fabulous human expression - thousands upon thousands of people coming together celebrating life!

Sunday, working on about 3 hours of sleep, 5 of us drove out to one of South America's most colorful markets. I did a little shopping but more people watching and when we finally returned it was time to buy a few more of the famous chocolates and bid a sad farewell to Sucre. We took a night bus to La Paz and ended up at a recommended hostel. Another crazy place, predominantly Irish, dorm beds this time, nightly activities in their own bar, a girls only room with hair dryer and straightener (a luxury on the backpacker circuit!) as well as a comfy TV room with DVDs. After a double-decker bus tour of the city, the famous witches market, pub trivia and the second night, we lost Cary, who had been a great travel buddy and Migi convinced me to sign up to climb Mt. Huyana Potosi - a whopping 6,088m high! I had never really had the desire to do such a thing before, besides perhaps Kilimanjaro and now... well that story will have to wait until the next entry. I must pack up and head to Copa... Copacabana (where music and passion are always the fashion ;)

Salt and Silver

Bolivia has more than made up for it's complicated border process. Uyuni, a town set hundreds of kilometeres from any other city, on one side a bleak landscape of desert and lifeless plains and on the other side, the world's largest (more than 12,000sq K) salt flats. Wide open streets that allow the icy winds to race through, chilling everyone to the bone. Curiously, I couldn's help but notice how the town seemed deserted besides the central tourist plaza. Very few people could be seen outside, doors always seemed shut and the animals that normally run rampant were missing.

The only reason I was there was to witness this saline wonder and it was every bit as impressive as I'd been told. I joined another british traveling pair and a japanese boy in a jeep and after stopping in the famous train cementary, rusting engines and cars sunken into the ground, pieces of track that once carried these proud machines and their treasures to the coast, strewn about along with piles of several hundred year old parts left to the elements, we were soon on the trail, smoothed and darkened by caravans of tour jeeps. Our first stop was a salt hotel/museum where everything from the tables and chairs to the beds and walls were made of salt and then on to the Isla Incawasi, a cactus island in a blinding sea - simply indescribable. Gleaming white and flat until the clear blue horizon like someone forgot to draw the flora onto this page of Bolvia.

There is a tradition of taking cheesy perspective photos and who am I to go against tradition ;) Each little group set about getting the funniest pics and I think we got a few keepers. The view from the top of the island allowed us to take in the vast expanse of blank earth - so beautiful in it's own right.

The next day I found my way to Potosi, the world's highest city and once one of the world's largest and richest as well with the discovery of it's silver mine. I decided to try couchsurfing for the first time in South America since it had been a great way to meet locals in India and provided a much more immersive experience and it was a great decision! For those of you that don't know about this awesome travelers network, check it out at http://www.couchsurfing.com/. Juan Carlos not only provided me a room and bathroom in his family's manor house in the heart of the city but also picked me up from the bus station and showed me around to some of the main sights. We stumbled upon a small parade of cars decorated from bumper to bumper in fuzzy blankets, stuffed animals and dolls. I saw archways decorated in fruit and silver - what's this? There was a band and people were dancing around the cars - ha! I just adore random festivals like this! I tried to take a couple pictures, the people not only encouraged it but one little old lady gave me a shot of a mystery orange alcohol and another man came up to explain what was going on. Everyone in Bolivia has been SO friendly and helpful!

A week never goes by that I don't find myself on a dance floor and this was no exception. The first night, I joined Juan and his friends for some latin dancing and in the world's highest city - that's quite a work out! The next day I wandered the city, my favorite pasttime, getting a feel for Potosi and that evening I was invited to a BBQ - something backpackers don't get very often! I met more friendly Bolvians and we ended up with plates of delicious food followed by games I haven't played since Highschool. I'm talking spin the bottle, truth or dare, King Elephant (Shout out to my PWs!) and that kissing the card game... haha, it was actually a lot of fun!

The highlight of Potosi besides the people was definitely the tour of the mine. As I've said before, I generally try to avoid organized tours but this is not possible for the mines, nor desireable. You need someone who knows where they are going and get explain the history. It was fantastic! Our first stop, after changing into miner's gear, not a toursit gimmick but for protection while underground, was in the miner's market. We could buy real dynamite, the only place in the world that it's legal, as well as coca leaves and drinks as gifts for the miners. The miners work as a part of a cooperative, each milking their own claim and work an average of 8 hours every day. They eat nothing, simply chewing coca leaves with a catalyst such as quinoa ash that numbs their mouth, their appetite and gives them energy - so interesting. Because of the mountains volcanic history, the beginning of the tunnels actually had icicles hanging precariously in our way and amazingly, just one level down, the temperature must have been at least 85-90 degrees F! We clamored through the shafts, sometimes able to walk upright, sometimes barely able to walk at all. We met some of the miners, gave them the gifts we had brought and I even chipped in when one of the heavy carts arrived, being pulled and pushed by four men, and shovelled rock to the other side of the tracks - he asked if I could come back the next day! :)

Two thirds of our group could not go to the next level down because of troubles breathing, claustrophobia etc so a couple of us continued down a rickety ladder to see "El Tio" the local deified statue that protects the miners from trouble. Everything was just so real, such an unproduced, raw look at life in the mines and I learned so much! Wow am I lucky not to have that profession!

I've now arrived in the sweet city of Sucre and thus far, I am quite enamored! There is a massive festival this weekend with an expected attendance of 25,000 people and I can't wait!

Every mile, worth the while

I've once again, fallen behind in my updates. Since I last wrote, I was in Peru, raced through Chile and have just arrived in Bolivia after one heck of a border crossing! At the risk of omitting certain Flourishing details, but simultaneously saving you from scrolling for hours, I'll simply list some of the highlights :).

Pachamama

• Arriving early that morning, Gabe and I started bargaining for a taxi to Urubamba when suddenly I heard my name and to my surprise, it was the driver that I had used the whole summer for my Rustic kids. He was heading that way - what luck!
• When our bus pulled up, I was once again pleasantly surprised to see many of my favorite villagers awaiting our arrival and I received a line of hugs and kisses. It felt like seeing family!
• We were invited to the home of the mayor for his birthday and attended a special mass.
• Rather than take a seat inside one of the caravan of trucks, I rode standing up in the back with the rest of 'my people', exchanging smiles and catching up on our way to Camicancha.
• The big day began with 4 soccer games between the two villages. Older ladies, with their skirts a'swishing, younger girls (yes that was my group ;), older men and then the younger boys. I have missed competition SO much and I had a ball! I also earned the honor of MVP of my game! :) Both villages munched on snacks, drank of the free-flowing chicha and laughed and cheered on the players.
• Next came the FOOD! Three under-earth ovens had been prepared and everyone received a heaping plate of lamb and vegetables. It was a very special afternoon, to see everyone seated, eating together after an afternoon of friendly competition. Bonds were made and the process has begun!

Cusco, Peru

• Back in Cusco, I spent time with several friends coming in and out of town as well as a few locals. It was nice to see Kyle, Ian, Angela, Juan, Gabe, Alex, Ximena and Frank!
• Salsa at Inca Team was amazing! Ive never danced in the round like that and let me tell you, it's just nice to be in the hands/arms of a guy that knows how to move you! ;)
• I explored the outskirts of Cusco, the oldest continuously inhabited city in the Americas, hiked the hills and strange abandoned monuments. Unfortunately, to see any of the most "important" sights in Cusco you have to buy a tourist pass which is about $40. It's a real limitation if you dont have the time or transport to see them all.

Arika, Chile

• A nice quiet town with a beautiful plaza and pedestrian mall. A cliff right downtown offers a nice view of both the ocean and the city and the beaches were clean and nearly devoid of people!
• Chile seems to like to force tourists into groups, so I yet again joined a tour to the world's highest non-navigable lake, Lago Chungara. Absolutely Breathtaking! At least 4 mountains were reflected in the lake, each very unique, from a conical snow-capped mountain to a pastel fang-like range. Llamas, vicuñas and other cute wildlife abounded. Upon our return we wound around, up and over hills and watched the peachy-raspberry sunset deepen into a pumpkin-cherry jubilee before giving way to a crystaline star laden night sky. Ahh, the complex beauty of this, our Earth!

San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

• First and foremost, this is the most expensive city in Chile and one of the most expensive in all of South America! Hot during the day, cold and night, a desert old-west feel to the town inundated with travel agencies and restaurants.
• That being said, I ate some of the best food that I have had during my entire trip, including a tastebud befuddling mushroom quinoa risotto with carmelized ginger cinnamon tomatoes coupled with a bottle of Chilean Carmenère! Yum!
• Ian and Jordan, my San Pedro travel buddies and I braved the 4am start time for a sunrise trip to the world's 3rd largest geyser and geothermic field. -7degrees C greeted us and I seriously thought I may lose a toe or two before Jordan had the brilliant idea of setting the box of hot milk on top of my feet - I owe him a toe or two! :) The geysers and fumaroles gurgled and spouted all around us and as the mornings first rays lit them up, it was other-worldly!
• That same afternoon we rented bikes and rolled out to the Valley of the Moon. Again, I was expecting a rocky scene, but this truly was like we were on the moon! We scrambled through caves (I admit having more than one nerdy moment, jumping around corners with my imaginary phaser :) and finally watched the sunset or rather burn into the horizon - one of the most incredible sunsets I have ever witnessed! Plus the 30+ kilometer ride felt great!

Bolivian Border

• I could not get a consensus on how to get into Bolivia without taking another tour so I winged it only to find it was a lot more complicated than I thought!
• The Chilean and Bolivian border posts are an hour apart and once into Bolivia, because I was not with an agency, the man took my passport from me and stuck it in a drawer. After much time waiting around, icy winds whipping around this shack, literally in the most desolate landscape that I have ever seen, I managed to get my passport back and join a jeep that took me to another jeep that took about 8 hours to get to Uyuni.
• Along the way, the road (which at times was just two parallel tracks barely etched into the desert) had collapsed and a semi truck had tipped over. A crew was busy trying to flip it upright and our driver didnt know what to do. There was an ambulance in our way and it would take hours to find another way through. Both myself and an englishman asked our driver to talk to the workmen but he just sat there mumbling that he couldn't. After nearly half an hour wait, I finally asked if I could get out and talk to them. I walked up, politely said that I understood they were busy, but if the CAT could smooth the sunken road a little and the ambulance could scoot over, we could pass. He was surprisingly nice, like the fact that we (and another two or three jeeps) were waiting hadn't occurred to him and just 5 minutes later, we were back on the move!
• I finally arrived in Uyuni and after paying several fees (the ride, the transfer, the park...) I tried to get my visa, that they refused to give me at the border and the immigration office would not accept my USD (America is the only country that must pay an absurd $135 upon entry because of our unfriendly visa regulations towards Bolivians!) because they had microscopic rips in them! It was ultimately frustrating, but eventually I got bolivianos to pay the fee as well as the extra fee since I was in a "tourist border town" - what rubbish! Bolvia has certainly drained me, I hope it was worth it!

I plan on spending a couple weeks in Bolivia, starting with a tour of the world's largest salt flat (the second is in Utah - represent! ;). Then back up into Peru. I hope to write more often, but you never know with these bloody internet connections!