this is my accomplishment story.
rose early for breakfast with destination Santa Theresa as our ultimate goal.. in the town of Santa Maria , a little town sitting down at the base of the mountain begins at 00KM. it is not charming or quaint , at least not from anything i saw... the hostel looked like a place from anywhere on the outside which is unusual.. the inside... well you saw.. a room with tall walls, plastic ceiling and window opening into the backyard patio..a basic bed layered in woolen blankets ..perfectly fine after a day biking.. when we arrived last night it was dark and quiet.. peopleless.. but this morning after a good breakfast of omelet and tea we gather out backpacks and head down through the village where people of all ages are settling onto streets and corners... we climb down some steps onto the road that we came on.. walk a bit to an old bridge... this is a working bridge i am telling you about... it has old worn boards that you can see the river through.. a turbulent roaring river... and there were moments i had to move quickly .. to not freak out... anyway there is a small town on the other side of the bridge which feels like the beginning of the journey....001
now i am not a particularly great hiker.. as some of you know... but remember at this moment i believe we are still going downhill.. we walk a while and talk... we are on the road... 3km ... fairly flat road... this is the jungle trip to Macchu Picchu .. and before we know it we break off onto the jungle trails that prove to be just that... it is thick and hot... green.. a contrast to the mountains and yesterday with its´ cool rain and temperatures.... the foliage is different that that found on other trips... i like it.. the guide, gia, ( we called his gia the entire trip.. not knowing that was guide in spanish!!!) anyway he was outstanding... ¨this is not a marathon¨... my cue to go at whatever pace i could handle.. because honestly after he told us it was a 23 km hike today.. i knew i had made a big mistake taking this trip...7:30 til dusk at the hotsprings...walking the entire way...hmmmm
now many of you don´t know the story of the grand canyon.. but in a nutshell i nearly died going up 1.5 miles... so the thought of 23 km going "UP" a mountain kind of made me fewel deceived .. so much for booking trips with Elvis (Caesar) again..
anyway.. the paths through the jungle were mostly flat and rarely cooking hot... in fact the dense jungle cools you down from the smeltering heat of open spaces and road... i wore long lite pants that tie at the ankles and lite long sleeve t-shirt to prevent bug bites and used off which worked like magic at the rest stops... and my shoes were perfect for all terrain and living ....lol sharon, jo, irene, janet, diane ..in the jungle when you are moving the bugs don´t really settle at least they weren´t a bother to me..
along the way we stopped at every twig and insect of interest... saw all kinds of different fruit growing on the sides of the paths - pineapples, bananas, avocados... found black marbles (pits) and lots of bugs... speaking of bugs.. in the jungle there is a ceaseless high pitched ring... that fills the air.. it is a gigantic cricket.. i think i have a picture somewhere...of it.. and a moth, and butterflies galore...
okay.. so while i am talking about all this beauty and awesome distractions along the way we are climbing the mountain..gradually.... away ahead of us in the distance is a gigantic mountain... i mean massive.. we are beside the river .. or close to it... and it flows along the valley..looking way ahead in the direction that we are going we notice a black line across the mountain about two thirds of the way up... gavin says.. something like .. i bet that is where we are going.... no way...!! there is no flipping way i can go up there.. i wish i remembered the height of the mountain... anyway .. the gia assures us that yes that is where we are going... anyway ... i´m not sure how far we have walked by now.. but at least 4 hours.. maybe 5.. no lunch yet but rests whenever we want... i have passed my backpack to gia by now.... maybe at 2 hours.. and he happily took it and gave me his.. smaller and much lighter pack to carry.. gia takes the lead.. i am in the middle and gavin keeps the pumas at bay behind... the pace is fine .. it is not a race.. we have a goal and surprisingly enough even with the altitude i am doing ok..
there were moments i cannot lie when gavin had to remind me of my great attitude and do the army encouragement thing. thanks gavin in england. brilliant brainwashing!
when we are just about opposite the path on the gigantic mountain on the mountain beside we trek up and into a perfect little rest stop...when we are almost there gia picks a small pod from a tree.. i thought he was getting coffee beans.. but no.. he opens it and rubs his finger in it.. it is vermillion red. (orangy-red) real pigment.. then he takes his finger and paints his face in war paint.. awesome!. then he paints mine and then gavins.. i love this.. now we are protected .
mountain music is playing.. flutes and sacred songs.. there are hammocks still in the jungle heat in wait of tired travellors.. their colours beckoning me go there.. rest beneath the thatched cool... other travellors play with the pet monkey on a leash distracted with the toberlone chocolate bar and struggling with the foil.. it becomes a game... the mama brings out a big animal similar to a beaver who performs and tips a gatorade bottle up for a drink.. it is so funny.... to watch... the music surrounds us...the mountains wrap us in the safeness of the present and below a river rages... there is peace here... newness.. they live here.. everyday.... a guitar hangs near the ceiling ... food is here.. real coffee that the mama made,... treats... gatorade..
i go over to the tap and wash... glorious water.. (moment) running water.. a table is covered in traditional dress... may i? I wrap myself in a coloured skirt.. a wrap with embroidery and funny hat... everyone wears hats... especially interesting are the older ladies.. the white hat symbolizes that they are part spanish and part incan..
we are funny.. our gia puts on the full knit mask with the pointed nose.. similar to Michael Jackson.. we pose together.. it is fun..
others leave... we have a little time... i go and crawl into a coloured hammock.. the ties that hold it in place are beautiful.. the old man comes up.. and takes the guitar.. it needs a string. how is it that in cusco there is always another string tucked somewhere.. he begins to restring the guitar... then after a long time... my eyes take him in..he is 100yearsold.. then he begins to sing the mountain song.(moment).... you hear this song everywhere...
we stay longer than usual...of no matter... then we go.. down and up... for what goes down must go up and visa versa.... step step step.. step... there is a little army thinking of you logan going on in my mind.. and we climb up to the flat part away from the hut and the monkeys and far from the river below....
we get to a flat part of the trail.. the mountain on one side and the cliff below to the river... down down down.. i can´t look.. i hold the mountain.. all i need is to lose one step and whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeww i am gggggggggggggonnnne.
gia walks slow.. it is breathtaking.. frightening and inspiring...(moment) i can´t believe i am here looking down miles away to somewhere where we began..... i am not tired right now.. just simply awestruck. we walk more on ledges barely believeable.. sometimes as i stepped down the gia would take my hand walk on the outside while i clung to the mountain side.. wow.. we meet a woman and gia teaches us the greeting in ¨ketchawa¨which i forget.. they bustle along these trails daily.. and for centuries and it is nothing....
ahead of us the young group have stopped on a perch of rocks sitting alone overlooking the valley and river below.. mountains surround us and it is glorious out... rest stop.. we make it too and out the tiny sprinkling of boulders to the point i almost crawl.. my stomach is sick and my head is light.. if i faint here i am dead... anyway, keeping low to the ground i make it.. gavin perches on a big chairlike rock.. just hanging there as if waiting to tumble down into the river... he convinces me to go there for a picture...
oh what a feeling!! you will all like this picture. (momentttttttttt!)from
the crowd leaves again and we follow shortly.. heading for lunch break and the last of our journey today..finally we get to a small village . i guess it was a village.. where we stop and have lunch in a room with open windows and tablecloths... i forget what we ate.. soup and chicken??? we wash up and get cooled off with running water... there are ducks and babies wandering around and clotheslines and an outhouse... the crowd ahead are here and many have been bitten to death.. their legs are full of bites... red between hairs... i share the off.
rumour has it that you can get a taxi to Santa Theresa and i tell gavin i am getting it.. but noway... two more hours.... to the hotsprings... so away we trek.. we set our own pace and finally get to the part of the trek quite close to the riverbed.... bolders.. round stones.. it is not dark but getting close... we come upon a compound... enclosed but you can see in..like a beautiful resort... combed lawns.. nice places to sleep... we enter the gates to the hotsprings... natural warm,healing... we change and drop off our backpacks.. and into the springs to escape for as long as i can.... it gets dark... the stars come up ... and the moon... the springs are tucked beside the mountain and i just float around and gaze at the sky....
i go to the falls where the cold water is pouring off the mountain but i am spoiled and will not go there.. back to listen to the warm..
a bus takes us to Santa Theresa a village tucked on the other side of the moutain. it is a happening place.. humble quarters for sure.. again the plastic on the ceiling.. white and some version of styrofoam/cement who knows type of wall..there is a window at one end that doesn´t open and a hollow door with a lock similar to the sleepcamp at the cottage.. you can hear everything...
we go up to the main street for dinner.. in the center of the street is a median where there are a bunch of men, teens, ..guys all fooling around banging on things.. making fun and just being silly.. they are entertaining while we wait for dinner on the porch of a local restaurant.. the food on this trip is better than any food we have eaten so far... and the service.. with gia is superb.. i am loving this kid.. man they work hard .. have marvelous dispositions and will do everything for you happily... i am spoiled. ok i accept this fact now. (he continues to carry my backpack )
that evening i head out alone to find the music that is echoing through the village.. like it is next door to the hostel... easy to find... up the hill from the restaurant is a large football (soccer here) field and there is a band playing above the field. in the bleachers the town has gathered large and small alike.. to listen and watch... at the one end of the field a group of men are together kindof dancing together.. ( a site never to be seen in Canada!) and it is loud and spirited...
i wait a while.. get cold and head back to crash.. the music goes on and on and on....
love mom and me....
ps. despite how weighty you guys are i continue to carry you around in my pockets!
No comments:
Post a Comment