River Rythms

the creeeek craaaack of hammocks swaying…. the plop plop of fruits escaping from parrot beaks and landing in the river below…. the lapping of ripples against the long wooden skiffs moored to the dock….  the nasal hum of an outboard motor, along with cheerful singing from the boat drivers, fading in and out as they go by…. the threatening roar from a howler monkey…. the emphysemic hacking of the prehistoric, blue-faced, mohawk bird…. the hollow fssssss of a pink dolphin coming up for air…. the silence of the suspiciously still sunbathing gators dangerously nearby on the bank …. the sudden oowahoo-wa-oooo of one bird…. then eeeh! ow! ow! ow! of another…. more intermittent twittering, clucking, clicking, wailing, yapping and screaming from a myriad of other river birds…. and all the while in the background is the seismic drone of mosquitoes far and near…. and the fax machine beeping and buzzing of the countless other insects…. each creature adding its own unique tune to the rhythm of the Rio Yacumo, in the jungle pampas of Bolivia.

Happy Anniversary to Us (Again)!!!

Now over 2 weeks ago, Kristian and I celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary in Sucre, out for lunch at a fancy restaurant. My parents had deposited $25USD into our bank account along with an e-card to use to celebrate the big day, but the e-card never arrived so we had no idea until just last week, when I talked to them via Skype from La Paz.

But now as I sit in the hammock gazing over a lush garden towards snow-capped peaks looming eerily over the green river valley we just spent a gruelling 4 days hiking through, I think to myself that their anniversary gift could not have come at a better time. We spent a whopping $220 bolivianos (which is just over $25USD) for 2 nights at the Hotel Sol y Luna, in our very own cabaña, secluded in this garden at the top of the hill looking over town and across the valley toward the mountains. It is a thatched-roof, bamboo A-frame and completely open-air towards this stunning view. The designer must have had relaxation in mind, as it has been furnished with lawn chairs, a hammock, and the bed is not only extremely comfortable but includes an elegantly laced mosquito net to keep the bed bugs out and its perch upstairs in the loft provides a perfect view of the sliver moon as we drift off to sleep. Mahalo nui loa Padres!!!

Choro Trail, Bolivia

Day #2 of trekking on our own, and I feel great – and sore. Its been so long since we’ve used our tent that it seemed to resist being unfolded when we set it up last night. And its been so long since we’ve done any serious hiking that every muscle aches, including ones I had long forgotten about. But wow is it great to dive deep into the wilderness, felling like pioneers as we journey on without any guide leading the way.
We are hiking along an ancient Inca road, which in those days was the main route from the highlands of La Paz down to the midland rainforest, or Yungas, 3000 meters below. Our hike actually began high above the city at 4600m called La Cumbre (the Peak). When we stumbled out of the bus we were surrounded by thick cloud, so thick that we couldn’t find the Christ statue whose left hand we were supposed to follow in order to find the trail-head. But luckily I was looking in the right direction just when a gap in the cloud passed by the sculpture and I spotted it! From there we did as the Holy Son suggested and walked eastward until we picked up a dirt road, climbing even higher to a breathless 4800m before the trail officially began its long, steep 3-day descent to the Yungas.

Day #3
So our “3-day descent” turned out to be a 4-day roller-coaster of steep downs AND ups and a serious challenge for both body and mind. I thought that after the 2nd day my muscles and mental outlook would get into the groove of backpacking and the going would get easier. I also thought this trail would be almost entirely downhill since it started at a 4600m Andean “Peak” and ended in a valley barely 1500m above sea level. Our 3rd day proved all of these assumptions wrong as we spent almost 7 hours trudging through deep mud, balancing across rushing rivers and pounding cascades, winding our way around ridges and ravines heading ever more steeply UP with every turn. I was already exhausted from the previous 2 days of hiking when we started that morning and with each consecutive climb gravity’s pull seemed stronger and stronger, forcing me to concentrate harder and harder on nothing else but making the next step. I really felt like my will was being tested by some higher power (like they say, “the path of God” is never easy!). My only salvation was the sheer beauty that seemed to burst forth all around us, from the path overgrown with ferns and vines to the striking vistas rewarding every climb. Everywhere we looked there were long lacy waterfalls spilling out of the soft green cliffs adding to the ever-growing river far below. I can hardly explain my relief when we finally made it to our campsite in the garden of an ancient, hunchbacked Japanese man high on the cliff over the river.

The final day was comparatively easy with a 2-hour descent to the pueblo of Chairo, where we sat around feeding the mosquitoes for another 2 hours hoping for a car to show up and give us a ride. In the end we donned our packs one last time and walked a couple hours along a dirt road until we reached the highway. Just as we were realizing we had no idea where to go from there, a public bus came by, stopped for us in the middle of the road and took us to Coroico for 5 bolivianos. We couldn’t have timed it better if we had planned it. Plus, we just happened to sit next to the owner of a hotel on the hill above town and she offered to give us a lift there if we wanted to check it out…Perfect.