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.