Ica Desert

shredding sand gnar in Huacachina, Peru...

Cordillera Huayhuash

She soaked my soul to feel this life...


To be humbled is to succeed
To grow is to flower from one´s seed
Limit the follies and store the feed
Don´t let boundaries give way to heed

Dominance I thought was a man´s domain
Yet here She steers me, Strider on a rein
Pulling me down into a whirling drain
Forcing me to embrace the cold, sharp pain

"Mother please relent and quit this show
I repent, I repent, my heart is beating slow
Give me a chance and withdraw this flow
I´ll make it, I´ll make it, I promise I´ll grow"
But fierce with terror She held me below
I suffered, I choked, I stroked one last row

Indifferent and insipid She held me hand on heel
Dipping me like a Christmas parchment in a lake as cold and hard as steel
"Wake up you foolish boy, and grab this ship by stern and keel
If you want to master me, you must take the wheel

Odysseus was lucky and Achilles too
But I doubt that you stand with one of these few
Take your lance and step away from the pew
It is I, Mother, God who is in front of you

Act afraid, I dare, I´ll devour you
But make a stand I demand you to
It´s your last chance no more clues
Fight now or forever lose"

And I as solitary and solemn as I was
Stood up and fought for one last cause
For life, acceptance, and humanity´s laws
I straightened my back, I tightened my jaws

"Try me Mother," said I, "I am more than flesh and bone
I stem from within you and therefore I will not die alone
Freeze me, squeeze me, trap me on a snow-peaked cone
Do it I´m ready, there´s no reason to post-pone"

And as I charged into the eye of the treacherous storm
She disappeared with a wink and a grace of form
And left among the mountains soaked and torn
Crying out, a new man was born

Yohan

Travels AS a Burro .:. Santa Cruz Trek

 

Perhaps the biggest lesson of all came a few weeks after the trek, as I was writing the blog itself. This lesson was in non-attachment. Because this trek was so awe inspiring, I couldn't leave out many details. This being so, I spent at least eight hours writing the first entry. I was revising it for the last time when I accidently erased the entire thing. In the moments of panic that followed, I had no choice but to be present during my freak out. My notes, of course, I had thrown out the day before. After some deeeep breathing and support from Vern and Katie, I decided that I would try to re-write it. With Cuba Libre (rum and coke) in hand...here I go. Maybe the first attempt was too long anyway...

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Although the following may sound like a tale of unfortunate events (omitting the above paragraph), let me assure you that every minute was an adventure. Had things not unfolded the way in which they did, it would not have felt like 'our' trip. Strange and random occurrences seem to be the norm of our travels. And besides, the amazing untouched beauty we experienced, as written beautifully in Vern´s pervious blog, made it more than worth it, but it always does.

Stream of Consciousness

Parque Nacional Huascaran

Being in this place I feel closer to God, or what they call ´God´, than ever before. This is the essence of the PachaMama in all her glory, although the mountains do have an innate male quality to them; seemingly tough and unforgiving, looming distant and domineering over the fertile landscape below. Their initial impression is altogether menacing but I am incredibly attracted to them, drawn to their sharp features and jagged peaks shrouded behind a fog of mystery. Their energy pulsates, dancing with the feminine flow of the river as it curves gracefully along the valley floor. Sister streams cascade down from hidden springs; deep seeded tears of a man longing to be truly understood by those who come to witness his splendor. Few are courageous enough to endure his unpredictable temper and bone chilling storms, but those who commit their hearts to the journey are rewarded with the knowledge of his innermost secrets and lifted to a beauty that is known only to these silent giants of the earth; angelic kings crowned with a halo of snow. But ultimately a mountain cannot stand without the intricate root systems of the PachaMama´s grasses, shrubs, and trees; without her support he would crumble. So as the mist swirls blue overhead, perhaps it is simply being in the presence of this beautifully delicate relationship, this natural balance of masculine and feminine, that brings me closer to ´God´, closer to myself. Perhaps there is something in the overwhelming feeling that I´m being watched, not just by the cows but by the air itself...




Cebollapampa, entre Nevados Huascaran y Huandoy
jjv

Cotopaxi

At 9:00 a.m., on a Tuesday morning, Ehren and I, along with two Danes named Jacob and Chris, were picked up from The Secret Garden hostel by a touring company called CarpeDM  Adventures.  From the hostel we were taken to a mountaineering rental shop, here we acquired cramp-ons, ice-picks, snow pants, boots, etc.

Origami Alien

In Vilcabamba Ecuador I met a man from Saturn.
He sat atop a mountainside folding an origami pattern.

Paper Pegasus in hand, a tranquil look in his eye,

why shouldn't I believe him, why would he tell a lie?

¨Music comes from Saturn,¨ he whispered in my ear

and suddenly I realized it was his clarinet that drew me near

as I struggled up the spine
of that treacherously beautiful climb.

Kindness of Strangers

There are times during travel that the place itself does not make much of an impression, but rather it is the people you are surrounded by that define your experience. This was the case for us in Cuenca, Ecuador in which we spent four nights with the Scherr family. Through one of those ¨random¨ chance meetings, Jessica had met a Canadian lady in Canoa who was happy to put up five traveling gringos in her home in Cuenca. By the time we had arrived, she had family in town but gave us the contact information for another family that she was friends with.