hey all,
Its about that time.... after two years of adventures, frustrations, political instability, and new experiences, I am heading back to the states. This has truly been a unique experience and I appreciate all the support I received from family and friends. In keeping with a common theme of asking for help, I am also requesitng any ideas/leads you may be able to provide as I seek out new work opportunities.
Thoroughly broke and discouraged with the international development world, I am heading back into private industry. In case you weren't clued in I have been working in business development for a wireless telecom. I am focusing my job search on Boston preliminarily (dc as the back up).
And, lastly, here is a story from the weekend. noah (the new canadian), greg and i hit the Choro Trail this weekend. in typical ill advised fashion, we did it in 2 days instead of the recommended 3 to 4 and are each suffering from a variety of aches, pains and blisters.
it was probably one of my last adventures in bolivia and a memorable one. complete with a 17k day on saturday in a mix of snow and torrential rain (by far the most miserable trekking day i have experienced). soaked to the bone and freezing our aXXes off we made camp saturday night and did our best to get warm. the following morning we crossed a rushing river, exploding with class 4 to 5 rapids, suspended from a single cable on a zip line with a cloth harness - also a new and hilarious experience. bolivia never fails to surprise me.
after witnessing a donkey break dancing, we pushed through the final 26k on sunday and arrived in coroico on a sunday night/holiday. after descending 3500 meters from la cumbre near la paz to corioco, we found ourselves standing in a town plaza with no hotel rooms available. alas, we were forced to rent a minibus and make the trip back to lp sunday night.
here are some pics - not many cause i had to hide the camera from the rain
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b357e7c4050c
see you soon,
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Paakas Trip
I just returned from a free eight day trip to the amazon. I was fortunate to be the invited guest for a week at a jungle resort in northwest Brazil on the border with Bolivia. The resort is located at the convergence of two rivers that form the border between Guayaramerin, Bolivia and Guajará-Mirim, Brazil.Peter hooked Meagan up with the owner of the resort who was looking for some marketing assistance. In return for the work - we received an all expense paid vacation to the jungle. Very nice!
In order to get to the resort, we took a world war two era plane from the military airport in El Alto. We departed in the midst of a snow storm decending 13,000 feet to the jungle where temperatures would be closer to 100 degrees. The vintage plane is not sound proof - so the flight crew handed out cotton balls prior to take off. And our flight path took us much closer to the mountains surrounding La Paz then a standard commercial flight which was exciting for me, but not so much for Meagan.
The flight took us to a dirt strip in Guayaramerin where we were met by our host from Pakaas. Our luggage arrived at the "gate," a fence separating the awaiting family and friends from the runway, on a hand cart. From there, we took a shirt motorcycle taxi ride to the river, hopped on a boat and a half hour later found ourselves pulling up to a clearing on the opposite side of the river.
Pakaas, www.pakaas.com.br, is a unique resort built completely elevated from the ground (approx 4 meters). The accomodations are high end in comparison to places I had stayed in to date. For example, the owners built a helicopter landing pad for easier access for the elite that visit from Brazil's well known cities (Rio, Sao Paulo, etc.).
The resort is a series of bungalos spread at a healthy distance from each other to ensure privacy. They are connected by elevated walkways which also lead to the resorts central building. This building has an enourmous restaurant (adequate for weddings, etc.), smaller private restaurant, lounge, disco, bar, reception area, tv room (satellite obviously) and negative edge pool. The pool is an engineering feet as it is situated on the top floor of the center building approximately 15 meters above the ground. (best pictures are on the hotel website above)
We were pampered all week. We stayed in a private jungle bungalo with a very comfy king size bed, air conditioning, and a balcony. We spent most of our time at the pool but also sampled a variety of activities (market research) including crocodile hunting at night, fishing for piranha during the day, and a couple jungle tours. It was a blissfully relaxing week. The air was comfortably steaming and the bugs were managable.
It was offseason so we had the place to ourselves. Some of the highlight included: eating a delicious lunch over looking the river and watching pink dolphins swim by; chasing away the little frog that wanted to hang out with us in our cabana; watching the lightning of a passing storm from our balcony; and amazing sunrises and sunsets.http://www.flickr.com/photos/xthecritic/sets/72057594068227350/show/
The trip ended in typical Bolivian fashion with us re-boarding our world war era plane packed like a guatemalan chicken bus. There were people in the aisles and even a sick man on a stretcher with an IV bag hanging above him jammed in the back --- comedy.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
Mururata
What's up,
Here are some pics from the last two weekends. The first are from kayaking in Coroico (Brian, Greg and I) and the second are from climbing Mururata last weekend (Greg, Brian, Leon and I).
The kayak trip was pretty amusing as I was tossed like a rag doll through the rapids. The trip up Mururata was a bit more intense including us getting lost, arriving on the glacier 5 hours late (noon), making a bad meeting plan in a river valley and arriving back at the car about 10 hours late (11:30pm). If you have the time and interest the detailed story is in the next post.
Kayaking in Coroico -
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b32bfdbc0566
Climbing Mururata -
http://www.flickr.com/photos/xthecritic/sets/72157600049842992/show/
Here are some pics from the last two weekends. The first are from kayaking in Coroico (Brian, Greg and I) and the second are from climbing Mururata last weekend (Greg, Brian, Leon and I).
The kayak trip was pretty amusing as I was tossed like a rag doll through the rapids. The trip up Mururata was a bit more intense including us getting lost, arriving on the glacier 5 hours late (noon), making a bad meeting plan in a river valley and arriving back at the car about 10 hours late (11:30pm). If you have the time and interest the detailed story is in the next post.
Kayaking in Coroico -
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b32bfdbc0566
Climbing Mururata -
http://www.flickr.com/photos/xthecritic/sets/72157600049842992/show/
Monday, August 18, 2003
A Long Day on Mururata (18,950 feet/5,775 meters)
Friday evening, August 15th, Greg, Leon and I piled into Brian’s car headed for a leisurely summit of the seldom climbed mountain next to Illimani (on the right in this picture) called Mururata (on the left in this picture). A somewhat unappealing mountain visually, Mururata has a Kid n Play inspired flat top and resides about 2 hours from La Paz. It represented a good spot for a climb as I banged up my knee kayaking the week before, Greg was returning from a summit the prior night and Brian lined up a snowboard which could be used in the descent.The trip began with the usual two hour late departure and some sketchy general directions on where we were headed. With the sun setting, we found ourselves in the right general area but on the wrong roads. After an hour and a half of checking all available options, crossing river beds, and switching into four wheel drive – we found ourselves at the head of the trail for the climb.
After an excellent dinner and a stunning moon rise, we headed into our tents for a few hours of sleep. With a sudden yell from Brian, we were up and ready to go by 4:30am. Having arrived at camp after dark, we relied on a nearby trail marker to begin our ascent.
Following what we hoped as the route up a rocky slope, it quickly became clear that there was not one clear trail to follow. Soon, we found ourselves separated with Brian and Greg following a right hand path and Leon and I headed left. After a fairly typical ascent, I was perched on a rocky ledge with no glacier in sight.
It was clear we had not chosen the correct path. Moments later, I heard a 30 second rock slide behind me and yelled out to make sure Leon was alright. With no response, I yelled out for him a few more times. Blocked by the rock, he didn’t hear me but did appear about five minutes later, just as I was debating whether to head down and look for him.
Following the rocky ledge toward the far off glacier, we encountered a slight challenge – an abrupt peak. After a quick debate about whether to down climb and go around or to attempt to summit, Leon and I headed up. Thankful for the recent rock climbing experience, I was comfortable ascending the exposed rock face despite the steep drop available below. Luckily, this summit was connected to the rest of the ridge and Brian and Greg were now in our line of sight.
Soon we all congregated at the next decision point. Situated on the top of the
ridge a bit closer to the glacier, we found ourselves at an impass. The ridge we were on descending straight down several hundred meters with no route to the next ridge. With no other options, we were forced to look for an alternate path.After another brief debate, we decided to head left. This was due in part to a bit of advice received prior to departure - a vague reference to antennaes and going to the left of them. Later, we would discover that we probably should have been going to the right but alas your hapless mountaineers were mistaken.
Heading left entailed descending as far as we had ascended, although now the sun was up and it was getting warm. Dropping into the next valley, we headed up a scree rock wall which was visually disconcerting. An enormous climb with no path, we each choose similar but slightly divergent roots. Severely behind schedule, we began conserving food, water and energy to the best of our ability.
After four hours of slow movement, occasions of brief sliding, some rock climbing, a false summit (about 200 meters short of the top) and even some crawling, Greg and I found ourselves within sight of the glacier. From our perch we watched as Leon climbed a crumbling chimney wondering what the hell he was thinking and where Brian had gone. After collecting our energy, I followed Greg up a snow chimney to the glacier. A simple stair case climb of less than 20
meters and we were finally on the glacier.After a quick traverse, the four of us met on an exposed rock seven hours after leaving for the glacier. This was by far the most tiring/difficult approach to a glacier I have ever experienced. And with my usual tact, I greeted my friends by saying, “holy shit - that was fucking horrible.”
Brian informed us of the time (noon), Leon decided he was best heading down as he was only equipped with tennis shoes, and we proceeded
to debate whether to pursue the summit at this late hour and how to meet up with Leon that evening. Enter bad decision number 2.Rather than descend the scree to our campsite, we decided to meet up in the next valley – a river bed valley. Leon would drive as close to the glacier as possible and we would trek out of the valley to the awaiting headlights. With this plan set, Brian, Greg and I headed across the glacier for the summit and Leon headed down.
After our seven hour ascent, energy, food and water were low. And we made unusually slow time across the fairly flat glacial surface of Mururata, made all the worse by the constantly visible summit seemingly just within grasp.After more than four hours traversing the glacier a howling wind, blowing snow and sever cold were testing our will to continue. Brian found a great launching point and de
cided he was ready for his snowboarding session. Greg and I pointlessly decided to press on for the final push to the summit.Traversing a mix of hard packed snow and foot deep powder, Greg and I made slow time the last few hundred meters toward the summit. About 100 meters short, I pulled back on the line linking our steps. Greg turned to see the face of reason or defeat depending on your perspective. And I quickly launched into a speech I had been contemplating for about an hour.
“FUCK THIS FUCKING MOUNTAIN. I don’t give a shit about this stupid peak (it is not visually impressive)… look at it. It’s fucking lame. Let’s get the fuck off this mountain right now. This is absurd. We wouldn’t even be here unless Brian wanted to snowboard down it. This is fucking ridiculous.”
We then conducted a ten minute testosterone laden argument that ended with Greg succumbing to reason and we quickly (or as quickly as we could) turned around and began the long trudge back to the edge of the glacier. Strangely, we were not met with a feeling of defeat but more of relief at having finally given up on this stupid mountain and realizing that we were on our way home.
Following the winding path of Brian’s snowboard track, we followed a direct descent t
oward the river valley where we expected Leon would await us. Traversing the glacier as the sun slowly crept toward its inevitable meeting with the horizon we were bathed in a beautiful setting of crystallized snow crevasses, an endless sea blue sky and subtly changing shades of light.Ending our descent in a crevasse filled section of the glacier, Greg and I had to maintain our patience and carefully traverse what we viewed as the final section of danger in our trip. Despite one unusual sound of ice popping below my feet, we found ourselves on solid ground just as the sun waved goodbye.
Thankful to be in the river bed valley, we began our hike toward the awaiting car uncertain of where it might be. Following the riverbed for an hour or so we stayed to the left based on my false sighting of awaiting headlights. After about 45 minutes of hiking we found our path cut off by a ravine. And we began looking for a way to descend in the dark.
After a first attempt to descend which ended at a cliff face, we heard the first familiar voice of the night – a voice coming from somewhere to the right. So we headed back up to the top of the ledge and to the right in the direction of the voice. After crossing a portion of the creek leading to a waterfall and after one disconcerting slip, we found ourselves very close to the awaiting voice. Sure that it was Leon and the safety of the car, we wondered where Brian might be.
After a few vocal exchanges and an argument about a loaned headlamp, we learned the voice was Brian and not Leon. “It’s Brian you idiots!” Brian led us down to where he waited in the ravine and informed us of some good and bad news. The good: Leon was fairly close by and they had communicated briefly. The bad: there was another cliff that Brian didn’t know how to descend and Leon had left in the car.
Equipped with two headlamps and some rope the 3 of us went to inspect the next obstacle. Sitting perched on the top of a cliff only one thing was clear – this ravine was much deeper than the last. But much like the last it was difficult to know much more because of the darkness.
Our first debate was whether to look for a way down in another valley, wait for Leon to come back or wait for the moon to come up in 2.5 hours. After a brief discussion we decided to check for a way down again where there had been something similar to a rock slide. During this debate, Leon reappeared and we communicated by light signals so he would know where we were. Reassured by his response we were more confident about the decision to descend.
Unable to see the bottom, we decided to have one person repel down the rock slide secured by rope to see what we were dealing with. Brian being the most experienced of the three took the lead and headed down. Finding the end of the rope and not the bottom he assured us that it was a fairly easy decent and there was a good ledge to do a second belay from.
Pulling the rope back up with the 2nd head lamp for my descent the rope became entangled. And our descent was now delayed. Using a crussix system, I descended the rope to where it was entangled and began to ascend back to where Greg was belaying. Again the rope became stuck behind me and I descended and ascended again. Meanwhile, the temperature was dropping quickly and we were all getting irritable. The most obvious of which was coming from below as Brian awaited the next person descending with no idea what was taking so long.
Following a final scream from an agitated B-Real, I headed down with all the gear and a very painful right knee (pain increasing with each step since beginning the descent). With an unwieldy snowboard on my back, a back pack in my right hand and the rope in my left, I stumbled down the rock slope until I heard Brian’s voice again asking what took so long. After getting off belay, Brian and I had a healthy, scratchy voiced argument (from dehydration) and Greg made his way down to us.
During his wait, Brian had made contact with some friends in La Paz and learned that the stress level at home and for awaiting Leon had reached extreme levels. Leon was suggesting contacting a rescue team as he didn’t think we would be able to descend the cliff he was parked below. Luckily, Brian spoke with Sean, Meagan and Cecilia and relayed to Leon that we would be able to get down and to wait for us where he was.
Now with a better idea of the rock slope we were dealing with, I headed down first on belay to find out if we were approaching the bottom (snowboard on my back). Finding the end of the rope again and no bottom – I stationed myself on a nearby ledge and waited for Greg and Brian. After their descent and with more light, we discovered the slope was leveling off and we could climb down from our perch.
Gladly passing the snowboard back pack to Greg, I took the regular pack and the three of us headed down. Descending a fairly simple rock bed for another hour we found ourselves in speaking distance of Leon and with a huge sense of relief at a journey almost complete. Descending the final few hundred meters it seemed at times like we would never arrive. Finally, at 11:30pm we found ourselves face to face with Leon, the Landcruiser, 6 bottles of water and a lot of food.
After a happy reunion, a quick recap, and glance at the enormous cliff we had just descended the moon appeared overhead and we headed home. Roughly 18 hours after departing from camp we were on the road back to La Paz sharing a feeling of accomplishment, physical exhaustion and comraderie that makes this unusual hobby of climbing mountains such an amazing experience.
Monday, August 04, 2003
La Paz/Illimani Photos
For everyone that likes to see pictures - here are some shots from the last two weekends - rock climbing in la paz and my first attempt on Illimani (the mountain that looks down on la paz).
Unfortunately, I suck at rock climbing so far and we got blown off Illimani this weekend, so all these pics are of failure, us trying to get on top - nothing from the top.
After hitting my head on the rock wall last tuesday - it was time to get back to ice walls. Greg (the new gringo in town) and I headed for Illimani with a hired guide - Marco Antonio. Feeling confident, we headed up to the 21,000 foot peak that has take the lives of 5 people this year.
After reaching high camp after 2 days of trekking... we awoke at 1am on sunday morning to a "shit storm." The peak was hidden by clouds and the winds were howling. And thus ended our epic pursuit of Illimani. I guess I will have to endure that mountain giggling at me from my apartment windows each morning for a while longer.
And for anyone that actually reads these emails - my roommate finally paid rent. Although that money all went to the failed attempt on Illimani.
Here are the pics
Rock Climbing in La Paz - http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b325190ac409
Climbing Illimani - http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b32519bac4b9
Unfortunately, I suck at rock climbing so far and we got blown off Illimani this weekend, so all these pics are of failure, us trying to get on top - nothing from the top.
After hitting my head on the rock wall last tuesday - it was time to get back to ice walls. Greg (the new gringo in town) and I headed for Illimani with a hired guide - Marco Antonio. Feeling confident, we headed up to the 21,000 foot peak that has take the lives of 5 people this year.
After reaching high camp after 2 days of trekking... we awoke at 1am on sunday morning to a "shit storm." The peak was hidden by clouds and the winds were howling. And thus ended our epic pursuit of Illimani. I guess I will have to endure that mountain giggling at me from my apartment windows each morning for a while longer.
And for anyone that actually reads these emails - my roommate finally paid rent. Although that money all went to the failed attempt on Illimani.
Here are the pics
Rock Climbing in La Paz - http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b325190ac409
Climbing Illimani - http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b32519bac4b9
Friday, July 25, 2003
Still Alive
I haven't been in touch in a long time. In the recent past I have lost a roommate, gained a new digital camera, had a few visitors, made a quick trip to the East Coast and turned 27.
After Dan left at the end of April, I got a new roommate, Leon, who seems incapable of paying rent. Which is nice. I may be losing a roommate again soon.
In mid-June, I cruised through Baltimore and Washington DC to see some friends and beg for money for DESATEL.... It was cool to be home for a visit and things are looking good for wrapping up the financing - hopefully.
Over the last few weeks - RJ came into La Paz. And I met some new gringo friends of friends - Jordan, Vince and Scott. Not sure why, but I never got any pics of Jordan but just imagine a skinny white dude with a shaved head and chops standing in the middle of a circus ring with a 17 year old bolivian throwing knives at him - that's Jordan.
Anyways, I don't have much to tell. The pictures below are from RJ's visit at the end of july.... and from a night of drinking with Scott and Vince - enjoy or erase.
RJ's Visit - http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b324785aa4bd
Cacho Night with Scott and Vince - http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b324798765c8
After Dan left at the end of April, I got a new roommate, Leon, who seems incapable of paying rent. Which is nice. I may be losing a roommate again soon.
In mid-June, I cruised through Baltimore and Washington DC to see some friends and beg for money for DESATEL.... It was cool to be home for a visit and things are looking good for wrapping up the financing - hopefully.
Over the last few weeks - RJ came into La Paz. And I met some new gringo friends of friends - Jordan, Vince and Scott. Not sure why, but I never got any pics of Jordan but just imagine a skinny white dude with a shaved head and chops standing in the middle of a circus ring with a 17 year old bolivian throwing knives at him - that's Jordan.
Anyways, I don't have much to tell. The pictures below are from RJ's visit at the end of july.... and from a night of drinking with Scott and Vince - enjoy or erase.
RJ's Visit - http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b324785aa4bd
Cacho Night with Scott and Vince - http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b324798765c8
Tuesday, May 20, 2003
Climbing Season is Here
Hi,
May has arrived in Bolivia with tremendous snow conditions and a bit of luck. Taking advantage of both - I have some stories with pics below.
Huayna Potosi -
The first weekend of May - Brian (B-real), Jorge (from Spain), and I headed out of LP just after 2pm for my second attempt on Huayna Potosi (you may remember the previous one last june). Departing 10 hours earlier than the previous assent, we had time to clear the rock field and camp at the edge of the glacier instead of tackling it in one climb.
Setting up camp - the tempature dropped quickly as the sunset and a fierce wind picked up. I spent the 7 hours between dark and our departure at 2:30am huddled in my sleeping bag listening to the fierce wind whipping my tent. It was not prime sleeping weather.
Leaving at 2:30am under a moonless sky it seemed as though every star in the universe was present. Headlamp batteries all died, and we had to rely on Brian's good memory to keep on the path. We climbed the first ice wall in the dark and made it to the base of the summit wall just after 6am. Relieved to be there early instead of late and feeling strong, we headed up the final wall. With about 10 meters left, hands and feet freezing the welcome glow of the sun appeared over my shoulder on the ice wall in front of me.
The tempature quickly rocketed upwards from -10 C as we savored the sunrise at 6,088m. The descent was quick and uneventful - overall we reduced the total climb from the 14-16 hour stressful experience last june to a more relaxed and enjoyable 9 hour round trip.
Jankho Huyo / Jankho Pista
After two weeks at 3,600m, the itch to ascend returned and Brian, Jorge, Sean and I made plans to travel to a valley north of Peñas (1.5 hours weest of LP) to attempt two peaks - Jankho Huyo (5512) and Jankho Pista (5508).
Waking to a storm front over La Paz, conditions were in question but of course we headed out anyway. Luckily for us, the weather cleared in the afternoon. The drive to the glacier took us past two enormous lakes - one the color of emerald green - and snowcapped peaks. This valley alone was worth the trip.
We set up camp and huddled in our tents for a much more restful sleep than the prior experience on Huayna two weeks earlier . Beginning the ascent at 4am - the weather was much warmer than on HP and our path was lit by a brilliant full moon.
In typical fashion - we were short some supplies. I forgot my carbiner and Sean forgot his caribener and his harness. Jorge and Brian rigged Sean a make shift solution and we headed up to the peak.
Arriving atop Jankho Huyo just after sunrise was a much easier trip. No ice walls to climb - more of a stroll across the glacier. From the summit, we had a brilliant view of the Cordillera Range - this summit is situated in the middle of the range with dozens of peaks in view (as well as the Yungas and Lake Titicaca). We also had a view of the upcoming traverse and second summit for the day - Jankho Pista - on the other side.
Climbing down the steep backside of Jankho Huyo we got to use the axes. Then we began traversing the narrow glacial peak and approached a rock formation jutting out of the mountain/glacier. With doubt pumping thru my veins, I watched Brian begin to rock climb in crampons this narrow rock wall with sheer cliffs on either side. A very experienced rock climber - Brian slipped on his second step and that was enough for me.
Bowing out of the pursuit of the second peak, I had some fun climbing the steep back wall of the Jankho Huyo summit where Sean was already waiting. From our perch, we watched Jorge and Brian conquer the rocky traverse and summit Jankho Pista. It was brilliant climbing and amazing to watch in person.
We also watched as enormous billowing clouds appeared out of nowhere over the lake, and several peaks. Storm fronts were approaching from all directions. Returning to camp just before noon - we were safely off the mountain before any storms hit. We were lucky to slip in an amazing climb between both weather fronts (sat am and sun pm).
DESATEL
On the work front, we took a giant step forward in April and May with productive discussions with potential investors and technology partners. We shook hands on our first non-founder investment at the end of last week and are negotiating with 5 additional parties to round out the financing now. The cash investment means, not only will I get paid for back salary since February, but there are also funds available to begin services. It is amazing feeling to be one giant step closer to realizing the goal set a year and half ago, especially after so much hard work and frustration.
Huayna Potosi Pics - May 3-4
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33ffe95c4e3
Jankho Huyo Pics - May 17-18
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33ffef5c483
I hope this email finds everyone well. Happy birthday Claire.
Chau,
Nick
May has arrived in Bolivia with tremendous snow conditions and a bit of luck. Taking advantage of both - I have some stories with pics below.
Huayna Potosi -
The first weekend of May - Brian (B-real), Jorge (from Spain), and I headed out of LP just after 2pm for my second attempt on Huayna Potosi (you may remember the previous one last june). Departing 10 hours earlier than the previous assent, we had time to clear the rock field and camp at the edge of the glacier instead of tackling it in one climb.
Setting up camp - the tempature dropped quickly as the sunset and a fierce wind picked up. I spent the 7 hours between dark and our departure at 2:30am huddled in my sleeping bag listening to the fierce wind whipping my tent. It was not prime sleeping weather.
Leaving at 2:30am under a moonless sky it seemed as though every star in the universe was present. Headlamp batteries all died, and we had to rely on Brian's good memory to keep on the path. We climbed the first ice wall in the dark and made it to the base of the summit wall just after 6am. Relieved to be there early instead of late and feeling strong, we headed up the final wall. With about 10 meters left, hands and feet freezing the welcome glow of the sun appeared over my shoulder on the ice wall in front of me.
The tempature quickly rocketed upwards from -10 C as we savored the sunrise at 6,088m. The descent was quick and uneventful - overall we reduced the total climb from the 14-16 hour stressful experience last june to a more relaxed and enjoyable 9 hour round trip.
Jankho Huyo / Jankho Pista
After two weeks at 3,600m, the itch to ascend returned and Brian, Jorge, Sean and I made plans to travel to a valley north of Peñas (1.5 hours weest of LP) to attempt two peaks - Jankho Huyo (5512) and Jankho Pista (5508).
Waking to a storm front over La Paz, conditions were in question but of course we headed out anyway. Luckily for us, the weather cleared in the afternoon. The drive to the glacier took us past two enormous lakes - one the color of emerald green - and snowcapped peaks. This valley alone was worth the trip.
We set up camp and huddled in our tents for a much more restful sleep than the prior experience on Huayna two weeks earlier . Beginning the ascent at 4am - the weather was much warmer than on HP and our path was lit by a brilliant full moon.
In typical fashion - we were short some supplies. I forgot my carbiner and Sean forgot his caribener and his harness. Jorge and Brian rigged Sean a make shift solution and we headed up to the peak.
Arriving atop Jankho Huyo just after sunrise was a much easier trip. No ice walls to climb - more of a stroll across the glacier. From the summit, we had a brilliant view of the Cordillera Range - this summit is situated in the middle of the range with dozens of peaks in view (as well as the Yungas and Lake Titicaca). We also had a view of the upcoming traverse and second summit for the day - Jankho Pista - on the other side.
Climbing down the steep backside of Jankho Huyo we got to use the axes. Then we began traversing the narrow glacial peak and approached a rock formation jutting out of the mountain/glacier. With doubt pumping thru my veins, I watched Brian begin to rock climb in crampons this narrow rock wall with sheer cliffs on either side. A very experienced rock climber - Brian slipped on his second step and that was enough for me.
Bowing out of the pursuit of the second peak, I had some fun climbing the steep back wall of the Jankho Huyo summit where Sean was already waiting. From our perch, we watched Jorge and Brian conquer the rocky traverse and summit Jankho Pista. It was brilliant climbing and amazing to watch in person.
We also watched as enormous billowing clouds appeared out of nowhere over the lake, and several peaks. Storm fronts were approaching from all directions. Returning to camp just before noon - we were safely off the mountain before any storms hit. We were lucky to slip in an amazing climb between both weather fronts (sat am and sun pm).
DESATEL
On the work front, we took a giant step forward in April and May with productive discussions with potential investors and technology partners. We shook hands on our first non-founder investment at the end of last week and are negotiating with 5 additional parties to round out the financing now. The cash investment means, not only will I get paid for back salary since February, but there are also funds available to begin services. It is amazing feeling to be one giant step closer to realizing the goal set a year and half ago, especially after so much hard work and frustration.
Huayna Potosi Pics - May 3-4
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33ffe95c4e3
Jankho Huyo Pics - May 17-18
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33ffef5c483
I hope this email finds everyone well. Happy birthday Claire.
Chau,
Nick
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
TDPP
4 weeks after my last trip across the border... the 3rd week of April greeted me with the familiar task of renewing my visa.
Taking advantage of the travel disaster prevention plan I created after missing my bus in March and plane in February, Dan and I successfully caught a bus to Peru on Thursday morning. (t.d.p.p. = leave on thursday morning, not on saturday morning for 4 day weekend trips - avoiding the allure/pitfall of friday night drinking)
12 hours later we arrived in Arequipa on "Palm Thursday" according to Dan. The center of town was packed with Peruvians observing Semana Santa services.
Departing the next morning with RJ freshly off the plane from Lima, we headed north to Colca Canyon. Passing East to West thru the canyon we were initally disappointed by its similarity to a valley. However, as we approached Cabanaconde - the valley turned more into a Gourge and the scenery was spectacular.
Having traded organized gringo tours for independence - we were unhappy to learn no buses depart between 11am and 6pm to return to arequipa. With obligations for a saturday night of revelry in Arequipa we were forced to fit in the 6 hour Oasis hike in the morning prior to 11am.
Your dedicated gringos hit the path at 4:30am under a brilliant canopy of stars and a full moon. Hiking down into the canyon with our fearless guide dog (that promptly got it on with a dog at the bottom of the canyon - i thought he liked us), tripping over rocks, watching the sun rise over the mountain peaks and being attacked by a rooster made for an incredible trek (beak penetrated my knee).
Easter eve in Arequipa for this crew meant finding a local club and inflicting our "game" on the local talent. Dan excuted his patented elevated dance routine - this time choosing a table as his platform. RJ pulled out "The Surf" - his richly Phillipino influenced dance technique. And I sat innocently on the sidelines taking notes (its great to be the reporter in these situations). The nightlife was entertaining and we woke up with the requisite pain as a result.
Meeting up with my La Paz neighbors (Brian and Cecilia)... Dan and I thought we had a cheap and easy ride home in Brian's car..... hahaha. After dropping $50 on one tank of gas (gas in peru is ridiculously expensive), we made it 30 minutes outside of the city when the radiator started leaking. so we head back to town on easter sunday where everything was closed - hopes of a sunday night arrival in lp dashed.
after finding some help at a gas station... we were directed to a road where two mechanics live at their shops to make an attempt at getting some off-the-clock help.
as we drove down the recommended street a drunk peruano waved us down worried about the fluids shooting out of our car. of course, we stopped.
he and 4 others exited a cevicheria (3 mechanics among them) shit housed. long story short. using a kitchen knife and some other basic equipment, they fix the car and we depart after sharing beers with them 2 hours later. comedy. our repair cost us a 12 beer contribution to their inebriation (about 8 bucks).
our delay put us at the border after it closed, so we stopped in Chuquita on the Peruvian side for the night. Brian knew of a cool hotel there and some ruins. Turns out, this is the town where people go to conceive due in large part to the fallic representations of the ruins. (see pics)
Sunday night, we had an unexpectedly nice stay at an excellent hotel (dan and i shared a room at this love nest - sweet) and an amusing morning tour of the penis statues before heading to lp on monday morning.
24 hours after our orginial departure... we were safely back in the peace. Another excellent trip, new city, great hike and travel disaster under my belt.
here are the pics (ricker - as per your request i have included little boys)
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b338eecd2556
Til later,
Nick
Taking advantage of the travel disaster prevention plan I created after missing my bus in March and plane in February, Dan and I successfully caught a bus to Peru on Thursday morning. (t.d.p.p. = leave on thursday morning, not on saturday morning for 4 day weekend trips - avoiding the allure/pitfall of friday night drinking)
12 hours later we arrived in Arequipa on "Palm Thursday" according to Dan. The center of town was packed with Peruvians observing Semana Santa services.
Departing the next morning with RJ freshly off the plane from Lima, we headed north to Colca Canyon. Passing East to West thru the canyon we were initally disappointed by its similarity to a valley. However, as we approached Cabanaconde - the valley turned more into a Gourge and the scenery was spectacular.
Having traded organized gringo tours for independence - we were unhappy to learn no buses depart between 11am and 6pm to return to arequipa. With obligations for a saturday night of revelry in Arequipa we were forced to fit in the 6 hour Oasis hike in the morning prior to 11am.
Your dedicated gringos hit the path at 4:30am under a brilliant canopy of stars and a full moon. Hiking down into the canyon with our fearless guide dog (that promptly got it on with a dog at the bottom of the canyon - i thought he liked us), tripping over rocks, watching the sun rise over the mountain peaks and being attacked by a rooster made for an incredible trek (beak penetrated my knee).
Easter eve in Arequipa for this crew meant finding a local club and inflicting our "game" on the local talent. Dan excuted his patented elevated dance routine - this time choosing a table as his platform. RJ pulled out "The Surf" - his richly Phillipino influenced dance technique. And I sat innocently on the sidelines taking notes (its great to be the reporter in these situations). The nightlife was entertaining and we woke up with the requisite pain as a result.
Meeting up with my La Paz neighbors (Brian and Cecilia)... Dan and I thought we had a cheap and easy ride home in Brian's car..... hahaha. After dropping $50 on one tank of gas (gas in peru is ridiculously expensive), we made it 30 minutes outside of the city when the radiator started leaking. so we head back to town on easter sunday where everything was closed - hopes of a sunday night arrival in lp dashed.
after finding some help at a gas station... we were directed to a road where two mechanics live at their shops to make an attempt at getting some off-the-clock help.
as we drove down the recommended street a drunk peruano waved us down worried about the fluids shooting out of our car. of course, we stopped.
he and 4 others exited a cevicheria (3 mechanics among them) shit housed. long story short. using a kitchen knife and some other basic equipment, they fix the car and we depart after sharing beers with them 2 hours later. comedy. our repair cost us a 12 beer contribution to their inebriation (about 8 bucks).
our delay put us at the border after it closed, so we stopped in Chuquita on the Peruvian side for the night. Brian knew of a cool hotel there and some ruins. Turns out, this is the town where people go to conceive due in large part to the fallic representations of the ruins. (see pics)
Sunday night, we had an unexpectedly nice stay at an excellent hotel (dan and i shared a room at this love nest - sweet) and an amusing morning tour of the penis statues before heading to lp on monday morning.
24 hours after our orginial departure... we were safely back in the peace. Another excellent trip, new city, great hike and travel disaster under my belt.
here are the pics (ricker - as per your request i have included little boys)
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b338eecd2556
Til later,
Nick
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
It Ain't Tax Day in LP
It has been a while since my last email so here is a brief update. (and more importantly my roommate got a digital camera so i have some pictures to share - skip to bottom for instant gratification)
Over the last 6 weeks or so.... I have been spending most of my time with three recently la paz'd gringos - kate (aussie), meagan (california), dan (nyc/boston) - because we have nothing better to do we have taken to calling ourselves 'the orphans.'
Apart from drinking and eating excessively... we have entertained ourselves with a trip to Coroico (in a monsoon), a couple soccer games, listening to Kate's stories (such as running around in the middle of the riots - dodging bullets, giving her email out to old men and how she broke my coffee table), and picking on little children (ok - so that has only been me - but its warranted, trust me).
I also had another 'travel disaster.' I missed a bus to Arequipa, Peru on a Saturday morning - shades of missing the flight to Cuzco in February - and had to postpone the trip (which i will take this weekend).
In the meantime, to keep current with my theme of losing everything I own, I lost my cell phone on a random trip to burger king last weekend. Which leaves me with only my cds left at this point and wondering, why the hell did i go to burger king in the first place?
Dan and I have taken up playing basketball against height challenged Bolivian teenagers. And until I seperated my shoulder we thought we were pretty damn impressive. (well, dan still thinks he is.) basketball has provided the picking on little children outlet i have needed for some time.
This email is also timely as brief farewell to Kate and Dan who are leaving the orphanage for other parts of the world. Kate is travelling the world for the next several months after 3 months in lp. Dan is headed to Peru to beg for money for other companies besides DESATEL. This leaves meagan and i to find the next random group of extranjeros or willing bolivians to create stories with.
Til next time - here are the picks....
Soccer game and Cacho
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33bccf5c49b
Farewell Dinner at La Suissa
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33bccfbc495
Hanging in La Paz
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33bccde4580
Muela del Diablo
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33bccd1c4bf
Over the last 6 weeks or so.... I have been spending most of my time with three recently la paz'd gringos - kate (aussie), meagan (california), dan (nyc/boston) - because we have nothing better to do we have taken to calling ourselves 'the orphans.'
Apart from drinking and eating excessively... we have entertained ourselves with a trip to Coroico (in a monsoon), a couple soccer games, listening to Kate's stories (such as running around in the middle of the riots - dodging bullets, giving her email out to old men and how she broke my coffee table), and picking on little children (ok - so that has only been me - but its warranted, trust me).
I also had another 'travel disaster.' I missed a bus to Arequipa, Peru on a Saturday morning - shades of missing the flight to Cuzco in February - and had to postpone the trip (which i will take this weekend).
In the meantime, to keep current with my theme of losing everything I own, I lost my cell phone on a random trip to burger king last weekend. Which leaves me with only my cds left at this point and wondering, why the hell did i go to burger king in the first place?
Dan and I have taken up playing basketball against height challenged Bolivian teenagers. And until I seperated my shoulder we thought we were pretty damn impressive. (well, dan still thinks he is.) basketball has provided the picking on little children outlet i have needed for some time.
This email is also timely as brief farewell to Kate and Dan who are leaving the orphanage for other parts of the world. Kate is travelling the world for the next several months after 3 months in lp. Dan is headed to Peru to beg for money for other companies besides DESATEL. This leaves meagan and i to find the next random group of extranjeros or willing bolivians to create stories with.
Til next time - here are the picks....
Soccer game and Cacho
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33bccf5c49b
Farewell Dinner at La Suissa
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33bccfbc495
Hanging in La Paz
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33bccde4580
Muela del Diablo
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b33bccd1c4bf
Wednesday, March 05, 2003
NY Post Article
THE LINK TO NY POST SEEMS TO BE SCREWED UP.... SO IF YOU CARE. THIS IS THE ARTICLE FROM THE WEBSITE - WITHOUT THE PRETTY PICTURE AND BOLIVIA MAP.
Salt of the earth
BEN CRAMER lucks out and lives to tell about a road trip through Bolivia’s wild south
IMAGINE a world so cracker-dry, so flat and harsh and unrelenting that there’s no soil or water, no trees, no plants, no people, no buildings or roads. A world made up entirely of hard, crunchy salt.
If you’re thinking of some alien planet, come back to Earth. This barren landscape makes up the Salar de Uyuni, the world’s largest salt flat, located high on Bolivia’s al-tiplano. Devastatingly beautiful, brutally inhospitable, it is also one of the world’s greatest road trips — minus the roads.
The Salar, once part of a prehistoric lake, is now a stretch of 10 billion tons of perfectly flat, crusty salt stretched over 4,700 square miles and surrounded by desert. At nearly 12,000 feet, the thin air makes exertion difficult.
When I decided to tackle this adventure with three friends, Brian, Oliver and Nick, all of whom live in Bolivia, we followed the guidelines to a T: We gathered the prescribed 55.5 gallons of gas, storing it in plastic cans on top of Brian’s Toyota Land Cruiser, a rough-and-tumble number with no back seats, weak head lights and a front window that wouldn’t close.
OOPS
We did everything right — except that we went without a guide.
We relied, instead, on a GPS device and a macho assumption by my ex-pat friends that their instincts were indisputably well-honed. Big mistake.
Our itinerary was similar to those used by Salar tour guides. It would take us west from Salar’s one formal entrance (20 miles north of Uyuni), give us a day and night on the flats, then take us south to the desert, where eventually we’d reach Laguna Colorado (a large, reddish lake) and Laguna Verde (a large, greenish lake), as well as some celebrated (and elusive) hot springs.
We set out from La Paz, Bolivia’s capital, and traveled 12 hours south and west on back-breaking “highways” (more often than not, cratered dirt roads). We entered Salar under a piercing sun, chewing coca leaves to fight fatigue. I ignored my suspicion that we were in over our heads.
The first night’s destination was Isla de Pescado, a cactus-tangled “island” of brown land —one of only a handful — on the otherwise white plain. With the sun beginning to set and no road to follow, we were officially panicking, until suddenly, the island appeared.
With the sun almost down and the wind howling, we scrambled to make camp. Nothing holds the heat on this stretch of earth, so temperatures plummet from the mid-60s to freezing in about an hour. We went to bed in long pants and hats.
By early morning our tents had become ovens; we hurried back into summer clothes.
Another two hours of dumb luck thrashing across the Salar was interrupted by a Bolivian army troop at an isolated military outpost pointing guns at us and demanding to see our passports. Eventually, we landed in the rocky, hilly desert.
DESERT LIFE
The desert supports a handful of species, from the usual (foxes) to the exotic (vicunas, a type of llama) to the surreal (pink flamingos).
But all that became somewhat unimportant as we scrambled to find a place to camp, eventually settling near a mountain that blocked the wind.
And then, on day three, on a steep incline in the middle of nowhere, the salt-encrusted engine of the Land Cruiser quit.
But luck was on our side. The Toyota started back up, and miraculously, we encountered a guided group. What’s more, the guide had the exact fuel filter we needed. (Sensing he had the market cornered, he jacked up the price to $4.)
On our final day, we drove south, past geysers that rival those of Yellowstone, to the Lagunas Colorado and Verde. And then, the jackpot: the hot springs. At 6:30 a.m., we shed our clothes and tip-toed through 40-degree air and over crackling ice to slink into the thermal waters.
Aaaaaah.
Salt of the earth
BEN CRAMER lucks out and lives to tell about a road trip through Bolivia’s wild south
IMAGINE a world so cracker-dry, so flat and harsh and unrelenting that there’s no soil or water, no trees, no plants, no people, no buildings or roads. A world made up entirely of hard, crunchy salt.
If you’re thinking of some alien planet, come back to Earth. This barren landscape makes up the Salar de Uyuni, the world’s largest salt flat, located high on Bolivia’s al-tiplano. Devastatingly beautiful, brutally inhospitable, it is also one of the world’s greatest road trips — minus the roads.
The Salar, once part of a prehistoric lake, is now a stretch of 10 billion tons of perfectly flat, crusty salt stretched over 4,700 square miles and surrounded by desert. At nearly 12,000 feet, the thin air makes exertion difficult.
When I decided to tackle this adventure with three friends, Brian, Oliver and Nick, all of whom live in Bolivia, we followed the guidelines to a T: We gathered the prescribed 55.5 gallons of gas, storing it in plastic cans on top of Brian’s Toyota Land Cruiser, a rough-and-tumble number with no back seats, weak head lights and a front window that wouldn’t close.
OOPS
We did everything right — except that we went without a guide.
We relied, instead, on a GPS device and a macho assumption by my ex-pat friends that their instincts were indisputably well-honed. Big mistake.
Our itinerary was similar to those used by Salar tour guides. It would take us west from Salar’s one formal entrance (20 miles north of Uyuni), give us a day and night on the flats, then take us south to the desert, where eventually we’d reach Laguna Colorado (a large, reddish lake) and Laguna Verde (a large, greenish lake), as well as some celebrated (and elusive) hot springs.
We set out from La Paz, Bolivia’s capital, and traveled 12 hours south and west on back-breaking “highways” (more often than not, cratered dirt roads). We entered Salar under a piercing sun, chewing coca leaves to fight fatigue. I ignored my suspicion that we were in over our heads.
The first night’s destination was Isla de Pescado, a cactus-tangled “island” of brown land —one of only a handful — on the otherwise white plain. With the sun beginning to set and no road to follow, we were officially panicking, until suddenly, the island appeared.
With the sun almost down and the wind howling, we scrambled to make camp. Nothing holds the heat on this stretch of earth, so temperatures plummet from the mid-60s to freezing in about an hour. We went to bed in long pants and hats.
By early morning our tents had become ovens; we hurried back into summer clothes.
Another two hours of dumb luck thrashing across the Salar was interrupted by a Bolivian army troop at an isolated military outpost pointing guns at us and demanding to see our passports. Eventually, we landed in the rocky, hilly desert.
DESERT LIFE
The desert supports a handful of species, from the usual (foxes) to the exotic (vicunas, a type of llama) to the surreal (pink flamingos).
But all that became somewhat unimportant as we scrambled to find a place to camp, eventually settling near a mountain that blocked the wind.
And then, on day three, on a steep incline in the middle of nowhere, the salt-encrusted engine of the Land Cruiser quit.
But luck was on our side. The Toyota started back up, and miraculously, we encountered a guided group. What’s more, the guide had the exact fuel filter we needed. (Sensing he had the market cornered, he jacked up the price to $4.)
On our final day, we drove south, past geysers that rival those of Yellowstone, to the Lagunas Colorado and Verde. And then, the jackpot: the hot springs. At 6:30 a.m., we shed our clothes and tip-toed through 40-degree air and over crackling ice to slink into the thermal waters.
Aaaaaah.
Carnaval
Just a quick note to tell you I have survived my second carnaval - granted a digital camera worse off. That's right. I got robbed again (3 times in 15 months). So, not only do I have to squint to watch tv (glasses stolen in peru incident Jan 2002) but there will not likely be many pictures sent from your faithful correspondent unless i can scrape together some money for a replacement and find some sucker to bring it to me.
Carnaval was a blast nonetheless. We started our festivities early Saturday morning (530am), as a good friend danced frantically to the Trainspotting Album. Limbs flailing she took out our glass coffee table and all signs pointed to impending bad luck. But we proceeded to Oruru (the capital of carnaval in bolivia) nonetheless.
Making my way through the crowds to our seats along the parade rout some expert managed to open up my left breast pocket and remove my camera without me noticing. I comforted myself by hurling water balloons at high school kids and spraying espuma on the less then helpful cops - especially Officer Sandy.
As a side note - Officer Sandy was the a hole that popped about 50 of our water balloons by spraying them with acid and saying "prohibido, prohibido, prohibido." In a back drop of hundreds of balloons flying through the air - riiiiiiight.
(insert imaginary colorful digital fotos here)
I remain convinced there is nothing more fun for "grown men (and women)" to do then hurl water balloons at each other in a state of mild to mas fuerte inebriation.
THE SALAR ARTICLE RAN TODAY - SO HERE IT IS IF YOU ARE INTERESTED: (this was the thanksgiving trip - Pedro was the turkey)
The post story on the Salar has run today. It's not very good, frankly, and they really dumbed it down (note: the "kicker" with which a story is supposed to end: "Ahhhhh." And calling vicunas "a type of llama.") And they condensed all the action points to next to nothing. And lastly, no Pedro.
But there it is. They didn't use any of our photos, opting instead for one of those glassy numbers from some agency.
http://specialsections.nypost.com/news/nypost/travel/20030304/p40.asp
Carnaval was a blast nonetheless. We started our festivities early Saturday morning (530am), as a good friend danced frantically to the Trainspotting Album. Limbs flailing she took out our glass coffee table and all signs pointed to impending bad luck. But we proceeded to Oruru (the capital of carnaval in bolivia) nonetheless.
Making my way through the crowds to our seats along the parade rout some expert managed to open up my left breast pocket and remove my camera without me noticing. I comforted myself by hurling water balloons at high school kids and spraying espuma on the less then helpful cops - especially Officer Sandy.
As a side note - Officer Sandy was the a hole that popped about 50 of our water balloons by spraying them with acid and saying "prohibido, prohibido, prohibido." In a back drop of hundreds of balloons flying through the air - riiiiiiight.
(insert imaginary colorful digital fotos here)
I remain convinced there is nothing more fun for "grown men (and women)" to do then hurl water balloons at each other in a state of mild to mas fuerte inebriation.
THE SALAR ARTICLE RAN TODAY - SO HERE IT IS IF YOU ARE INTERESTED: (this was the thanksgiving trip - Pedro was the turkey)
The post story on the Salar has run today. It's not very good, frankly, and they really dumbed it down (note: the "kicker" with which a story is supposed to end: "Ahhhhh." And calling vicunas "a type of llama.") And they condensed all the action points to next to nothing. And lastly, no Pedro.
But there it is. They didn't use any of our photos, opting instead for one of those glassy numbers from some agency.
http://specialsections.nypost.com/news/nypost/travel/20030304/p40.asp
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
Peru Trip
What's up,
This past weekend I planned to meet my good friend RJ in Cuzco to celebrate his 27th birthday, get Machu Picchu on film and do the rafting I missed on my previous visit. Unfortunately, I began celebrating his birthday in La Paz the night before I was supposed to leave. Continuing into the wee hours of the morning, I obviously slept thru my flight.
Reaching RJ on his phone while he waited patiently for me to come off the plane, I told him I missed the flight but would get there sometime in the next 24 hours. RJ selflessly volunteered to set up our rafting trip, train to MP and place to stay while I found a way to get there.
All the direct buses had left earlier that morning, so I began another play it by ear overland journey. Instead of arriving on a 50 minute flight, I showed up at 2am after 16 hours of painful hangover travel - including a fine at the border, bus breakdown and wandering around Cuzco for an hour and a half looking for RJ's hotel.
Hanging out with an old friend when you live alone in a foreign country is the best and RJ and I continue to do this right. From running with the bulls in Spain to scuba diving in Honduras to speed boats and cliff jumping in Guatemala, this time RJ and I got in some world class rafting and one of the 7 man made wonders of the world in Peru.
In search of the most difficult rapids, RJ and I found ourselves on a river exploding from the rainy season. Within twenty minutes of starting, 3 of the 6 people in the raft were tossed in the middle of a very dangerous section. It was comedy as we all scurried back into the boat, bodies flailing in the raft and only the guide left to steer. Following a 20 foot jump into the rapids from a pedestrian bridge, we brought the raft ashore on a grassy knoll surrounded by luxuriously green mountains.
RJ and I next headed to Machu Picchu. After a brisk hike up Huayna Picchu and a picnic lunch with a view from high above the ruins, we spent a couple hours exploring. (see pics) Following our day at the ruins, RJ and I finally made our mark on the Cuzco nightlife. After a couple beers to smooth out the rough edges, we headed for the Plaza where we encountered the four Canadians he had met in the airport when I never showed up.
They took us to a club where we rocked out to some mid-90's music. I was entertained watching RJ relentlessly pursue his group of Candian suitresses. Having returned to our Hostal after 5am. I was in danger of missing another flight. Luckily, RJ got me up with an hour to spare.
Stumbling off the plane in La Paz, I was greeted by a smiling immigration officer. Apparently, she recognized me or the 7 entry stamps in the last year (3 is the limit) and said you travel here a lot? And I responded "sometimes".... at which point she must have gotten a whiff of the spirits which I was now emanating from the night before. With one word she put me in my place, "Whiskey?" I said, looking at the floor, "No, it's beer. It was a long night."
Machu Piccu pics:
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b336b182a405
Im out,
NJG
This past weekend I planned to meet my good friend RJ in Cuzco to celebrate his 27th birthday, get Machu Picchu on film and do the rafting I missed on my previous visit. Unfortunately, I began celebrating his birthday in La Paz the night before I was supposed to leave. Continuing into the wee hours of the morning, I obviously slept thru my flight.
Reaching RJ on his phone while he waited patiently for me to come off the plane, I told him I missed the flight but would get there sometime in the next 24 hours. RJ selflessly volunteered to set up our rafting trip, train to MP and place to stay while I found a way to get there.
All the direct buses had left earlier that morning, so I began another play it by ear overland journey. Instead of arriving on a 50 minute flight, I showed up at 2am after 16 hours of painful hangover travel - including a fine at the border, bus breakdown and wandering around Cuzco for an hour and a half looking for RJ's hotel.
Hanging out with an old friend when you live alone in a foreign country is the best and RJ and I continue to do this right. From running with the bulls in Spain to scuba diving in Honduras to speed boats and cliff jumping in Guatemala, this time RJ and I got in some world class rafting and one of the 7 man made wonders of the world in Peru.
In search of the most difficult rapids, RJ and I found ourselves on a river exploding from the rainy season. Within twenty minutes of starting, 3 of the 6 people in the raft were tossed in the middle of a very dangerous section. It was comedy as we all scurried back into the boat, bodies flailing in the raft and only the guide left to steer. Following a 20 foot jump into the rapids from a pedestrian bridge, we brought the raft ashore on a grassy knoll surrounded by luxuriously green mountains.
RJ and I next headed to Machu Picchu. After a brisk hike up Huayna Picchu and a picnic lunch with a view from high above the ruins, we spent a couple hours exploring. (see pics) Following our day at the ruins, RJ and I finally made our mark on the Cuzco nightlife. After a couple beers to smooth out the rough edges, we headed for the Plaza where we encountered the four Canadians he had met in the airport when I never showed up.
They took us to a club where we rocked out to some mid-90's music. I was entertained watching RJ relentlessly pursue his group of Candian suitresses. Having returned to our Hostal after 5am. I was in danger of missing another flight. Luckily, RJ got me up with an hour to spare.
Stumbling off the plane in La Paz, I was greeted by a smiling immigration officer. Apparently, she recognized me or the 7 entry stamps in the last year (3 is the limit) and said you travel here a lot? And I responded "sometimes".... at which point she must have gotten a whiff of the spirits which I was now emanating from the night before. With one word she put me in my place, "Whiskey?" I said, looking at the floor, "No, it's beer. It was a long night."
Machu Piccu pics:
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b336b182a405
Im out,
NJG
Saturday, January 11, 2003
Happy New Years
Happy New Years,
Plagued with an inability to plan ahead - xmas and new years vacation became a last minute adventure.
Always a popular destination, Buenos Aires was a mecca for summer vacations thanks to the currency devaluation. In typical dumb gringo fashion, Oliver approached travel agents for flights just a week prior to our anticipated departure. We quickly learned that all the tickets were bought up months in advance.
Saved by our Christmas angel, Ingrid, we got a plane on the 24th, only 4 days after we hoped to leave. (just as we learned our alternative was a 70 hour bus ride)
Celebrating Christmas in B.A., we did the lonely planet tour of the city. B.A. was a great change of pace. Surrounded by designer clothes, world class steaks, excellent wines, modern infrastructure and beautiful women, we got on "The Program."
"The Program" - breakfast at 1pm, lunch at 5pm, dinner at 11pm, drinks at 1am, club at 2am, home by ???, sleep til noon.
That is when Danny G. entered the fray. Danny is Oliver's german cousin who is doing a law degree in Florida and flew in from Venezuela... got it? Whatever. Danny G showed up at 2am with a lovely local tour guide. Our lonely planet was properly retired as Valeria showed us everything we needed to see in B.A.
Ready for New Years on the beach, Valeria told us to hit Pinamar. She also suggested that there would probably not be any hotel rooms available. So off we went. 5 hours south by bus, we found ourselves greeted by a heavy rain storm and a tall dutch kid. Laurens, our kid brother, was the next addition.
Lucky to get a friendly cab driver, he found us rooms at a hotel owned by his brother. Exhausted from "the program," we crashed. The charming staff jarred us from our slumber early the next morning telling us to vacate the rooms. The four dumb gringos stumbled about 500 feet to our new home, the San Remo - a one star hotel in all its glory.
Armed with a place to stay, Danny G, OGG, Laurens and Nick headed to the beach. Pinamar is a popular destination for wealthy Argentinan families (who all seem to have daughters 16-22.) The dirty old gringos set up shop at UFO Point, the trendy beach hangout, listening to music, getting sun burned, watching the scenery and enjoying the ocean.
Our nights were filled with steak dinners, bottles of wine and champagne, feeble attempts at luring women and dancing our faces off at UFO Point and Ku til dawn. The first rays of light penetrating the booming dance floor at Ku each morning helped bury the feelings of regret at having stayed up another entire night. Morning swims on the way home, sleeping through the best part of the beach day, and very average food were the other half of the routine.
The fairy tale ended after a week as our kid brother departed our company to return to Chile and Danny G, OGG and Nick returned to Buenos Aires. Defeated by colds, Ogg and I were optimistic we could return to La Paz and lick our wounds after two weeks on "the program."
In typical fashion, OGG dialed the airline to confirm our flight on the 7th.... (we skipped our flight on the 4th in order to get 2 more days at the beach). The response went something like this.... um sir, the flights are very full, over 100 people on the waiting list and more than 20 people overbooked. Logical next question, when can we get out then? well, i can confirm you for the 23rd... is that too late? (it was the 6th).... OGG - um, yeah... i think thats too late.
pursuing some local advice we accepted our fate and we got the next flight to Jujuy in northern Argentina. Bussed across the border (5 hours) at Aguas Blancas, Argentina, we made it to Villazon, Bolivia (two cabs later) at 11pm and slept on the benches at the bus terminal til our departure to Tarija at 3am. Scheduled for 5 hours we would be in Tarija in plenty of time for our flight to la paz at 4pm.... however, we were now back in Bolivia. and no schedule can be relied on in Bolivia.
8am... bus breaks down. OGG and Nick hit the road with thumbs in the air and get a truck to take us to Tarija. About 15 minutes into our truck trip we notice traffic is stopped. An avalanche has closed the road. We find a seat and watch as rocks continue to fall. After waiting 3 hours, we are in the back of a pick up truck. Within 50 km of the city, we see traffic stopped again. Heads in hands, we wonder what next. Due to a change in government policy regarding car insurance there are national bloqueos (road blocks) in protest.
We set up shop in the plaza of a local town (Padcaya). Negotiating another ride we head toward Tarija at 6pm with the knowledge that the road blocks are over. At this point we are in a vanagon with an eccentric family of 8 (ages ranging from 10 - 70) and a random italian guy. They find our story highly entertaining. Needless to say, the road blocks were still up so we chilled on the side of the highway with our new friends. Finally entering the city around 9pm (31 hours after leaving B.A. and 5 hours after our flight left).
With no flights til Friday (it was Wednesday), we had the chance to tour around Tarija a town of 120,000 in southern/central Bolivia. As luck would have it, we ran into an older couple that lives in our apartment building who were eager to show us around their hometown.
Por fin, we are back in La Paz. Another tremendous adventure in the books. Attached are some pictures, FYI - the camera battery was dead for most of Pinamar.
Argentina Photos:
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b333df3f05f2
Tarija Photos:
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b333d86e4538
Books recommendations from the trip:
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius - David Eggers (a memoir)
The World According to Garp - John Irving
Im out... sorry for the long one.
Plagued with an inability to plan ahead - xmas and new years vacation became a last minute adventure.
Always a popular destination, Buenos Aires was a mecca for summer vacations thanks to the currency devaluation. In typical dumb gringo fashion, Oliver approached travel agents for flights just a week prior to our anticipated departure. We quickly learned that all the tickets were bought up months in advance.
Saved by our Christmas angel, Ingrid, we got a plane on the 24th, only 4 days after we hoped to leave. (just as we learned our alternative was a 70 hour bus ride)
Celebrating Christmas in B.A., we did the lonely planet tour of the city. B.A. was a great change of pace. Surrounded by designer clothes, world class steaks, excellent wines, modern infrastructure and beautiful women, we got on "The Program."
"The Program" - breakfast at 1pm, lunch at 5pm, dinner at 11pm, drinks at 1am, club at 2am, home by ???, sleep til noon.
That is when Danny G. entered the fray. Danny is Oliver's german cousin who is doing a law degree in Florida and flew in from Venezuela... got it? Whatever. Danny G showed up at 2am with a lovely local tour guide. Our lonely planet was properly retired as Valeria showed us everything we needed to see in B.A.
Ready for New Years on the beach, Valeria told us to hit Pinamar. She also suggested that there would probably not be any hotel rooms available. So off we went. 5 hours south by bus, we found ourselves greeted by a heavy rain storm and a tall dutch kid. Laurens, our kid brother, was the next addition.
Lucky to get a friendly cab driver, he found us rooms at a hotel owned by his brother. Exhausted from "the program," we crashed. The charming staff jarred us from our slumber early the next morning telling us to vacate the rooms. The four dumb gringos stumbled about 500 feet to our new home, the San Remo - a one star hotel in all its glory.
Armed with a place to stay, Danny G, OGG, Laurens and Nick headed to the beach. Pinamar is a popular destination for wealthy Argentinan families (who all seem to have daughters 16-22.) The dirty old gringos set up shop at UFO Point, the trendy beach hangout, listening to music, getting sun burned, watching the scenery and enjoying the ocean.
Our nights were filled with steak dinners, bottles of wine and champagne, feeble attempts at luring women and dancing our faces off at UFO Point and Ku til dawn. The first rays of light penetrating the booming dance floor at Ku each morning helped bury the feelings of regret at having stayed up another entire night. Morning swims on the way home, sleeping through the best part of the beach day, and very average food were the other half of the routine.
The fairy tale ended after a week as our kid brother departed our company to return to Chile and Danny G, OGG and Nick returned to Buenos Aires. Defeated by colds, Ogg and I were optimistic we could return to La Paz and lick our wounds after two weeks on "the program."
In typical fashion, OGG dialed the airline to confirm our flight on the 7th.... (we skipped our flight on the 4th in order to get 2 more days at the beach). The response went something like this.... um sir, the flights are very full, over 100 people on the waiting list and more than 20 people overbooked. Logical next question, when can we get out then? well, i can confirm you for the 23rd... is that too late? (it was the 6th).... OGG - um, yeah... i think thats too late.
pursuing some local advice we accepted our fate and we got the next flight to Jujuy in northern Argentina. Bussed across the border (5 hours) at Aguas Blancas, Argentina, we made it to Villazon, Bolivia (two cabs later) at 11pm and slept on the benches at the bus terminal til our departure to Tarija at 3am. Scheduled for 5 hours we would be in Tarija in plenty of time for our flight to la paz at 4pm.... however, we were now back in Bolivia. and no schedule can be relied on in Bolivia.
8am... bus breaks down. OGG and Nick hit the road with thumbs in the air and get a truck to take us to Tarija. About 15 minutes into our truck trip we notice traffic is stopped. An avalanche has closed the road. We find a seat and watch as rocks continue to fall. After waiting 3 hours, we are in the back of a pick up truck. Within 50 km of the city, we see traffic stopped again. Heads in hands, we wonder what next. Due to a change in government policy regarding car insurance there are national bloqueos (road blocks) in protest.
We set up shop in the plaza of a local town (Padcaya). Negotiating another ride we head toward Tarija at 6pm with the knowledge that the road blocks are over. At this point we are in a vanagon with an eccentric family of 8 (ages ranging from 10 - 70) and a random italian guy. They find our story highly entertaining. Needless to say, the road blocks were still up so we chilled on the side of the highway with our new friends. Finally entering the city around 9pm (31 hours after leaving B.A. and 5 hours after our flight left).
With no flights til Friday (it was Wednesday), we had the chance to tour around Tarija a town of 120,000 in southern/central Bolivia. As luck would have it, we ran into an older couple that lives in our apartment building who were eager to show us around their hometown.
Por fin, we are back in La Paz. Another tremendous adventure in the books. Attached are some pictures, FYI - the camera battery was dead for most of Pinamar.
Argentina Photos:
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b333df3f05f2
Tarija Photos:
http://www.shutterfly.com/osi.jsp?i=67b0de21b333d86e4538
Books recommendations from the trip:
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius - David Eggers (a memoir)
The World According to Garp - John Irving
Im out... sorry for the long one.
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