Luke ain't got nothin' on this

Prologue

How many times have we wished that we could just disappear to live in the sky? How long have we stopped outside, taken a moment to look up at the sky, and taken a moment to daydream about what it would be like to walk through the clouds? By 'we' I mean us traveling folk, because I've never met a wanderluster who isn't totally and completely sucked in by such a grandiose thing as the sky. There ain't a one of us who hasn't had a tear imposed upon us, at one point or another in our lives, because of the sky. There is just something about the astronomical that tugs at us. The gateway to the cosmos is the sky, so why wouldn't we feel this affinity towards it? We feel it as a restlessness, as an urge to travel, as wanderlust. And it's true, I believe, of all us travelers, despite whether you physically follow that tug from the sky or not it's still in your heart. The sky and beyond always seems to draw us closer to it. It can be a weak draw, then maybe a little stronger, and, finally, with some things, an utterly and undeniably call that must be answered. A weak draw may be lying on the grass in San Antonio on a nice sunny day, staring up at the clouds as they float on by lazily. A stronger draw may be when you pick up a girl you've never met before on a cold night, drive out to a cotton field, and make a blanket burrito while watching a blood moon rise. This type of draw is when you go to Colorado for the first time when you're fourteen, stand in the snow under the stars, and realize this is the first time you've ever actually seen the stars. Or that fateful shooting star tracing by you and a friend at a perfect moment (Crazy Frogg ;)). Those are decent draws into the sky, stars and blood moons and other things of this such. But then there is more. Then there is a draw so strong you can't help but be lifted off your feet and into the air because you've completely forgotten gravity exist. These draws are on a level of God or higher. These are no mere shooting stars, no perfect sunset or sunrise on a frosty morning, no. This type of draw is as high above the stars as the stars are above the clouds, the ultimate. These are when you're working your first season on an Alaskan fishing boat, you groggily climb up on deck to use the 'toilet' in the middle of the night, and in your half slumber happen to glance up... And you completely unexpectedly see the Northern Lights dancing high above you. You're awestruck. Flabberghasted. It's that sort of draw. It's when you see something so incredible it brings tears to your eyes. It's that type of sky. It's the Salar de Uyuni. The Salt Flats of Bolivia. The type of sky that puts your heart in your throat and takes hold of you with a titanous grip. A sky that inspires wonder in every aspect of your being and captures you, at least momentarily, in entirety. Those are the type of draws where gravity must fight to keep you on Earth because you're fighting to leave it, and those are the types of draws we all search for.

"I'm restless. Things are pulling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again." - Anais Nin

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When at first I saw it, even from a distance, I felt my heart skip a beat (or 8). Literally felt like my heart took a pause in my chest until my brain could decipher what my eyes were telling it. 

Eyes: Dude, brain, tell heart he's gotta see this

Brain: HEY HEART, eyes says you gotta see this, just hold on a moment k heart?

Heart: Why does eyes get to see all the cool stuff?

Brain: Quiet heart, what is it eyes? 

Eyes: Well you know all those pictures we saw of the Salt Flats? The ones that heart liked?

Brain: The Salar de Uyuni, yeah, what about it?

Eyes: THEY WERE REAL

Brain: No way that it's THAT good

Eyes: It's better, can I... can I cry...?

(Nose): *Sniffle* 

Brain: Don't be a child eyes, you haven't even seen 'em for real yet. And nose, that was low drama at best. HEY HEART,  YOU CAN START AGAIN NOW, eyes says the Salar is all real. Go ahead and start feeling it.

Heart: YAAAAAAAAAHHHOOOOOOO!!

My eyes, and I'm sure everyone elses eyes, were only for the Salar in the distance. The poor llamas we were driving past must've felt really unappreciated because no one was paying them any attention. There was larger game afoot. It seemed like I held my breath from the moment I saw these dreamt of Bolivian Salt Flats in the distance, but that would've been a world record because it took us about 20 minutes to finally get to the start of them. Even so, I don't remember breathing or trying to look away from 'em from the moment they were in my sight to the moment they were in front of me. 

Driving up to them was like looking out into infinity. It was like a dream. I didn't know what to expect as I tentatively dipped my bare feet into the clear shallow water. I definitely didn't expect the salt to feel soft and sandlike underneath, but it did. Like a perfect beach (though in some parts the salt became more solid). Walking ankle deep in that water was what it feels like when a long awaited dream comes true. In no way was it dissappointing. It was just one of these incredible things the world saw fit to think up and make all by itself. 

 My first look at the Salar 

Soft Salt

It was incredible and we spent a good deal of time playing in the sky before we were off to go see a different part of the Salar. 

There is only one building allowed in the Salar, and the view from around it stretches on forever. I mean you can see so far over the salt flats you almost even feel like you're seeing the curviture of the Earth on the horizen. 

Sight

Inside the one building

Everything is made of salt

Seriously, everything is made of salt. It's crazy. Crazy cool. And you truly feel

like you could walk off in a direction and never get anywhere. So we spent a bit of time here exploring the place and eating lunch. Me and Zoe both were doing a good job of getting really sunburnt because the Salar is still around 13,000 feet up and these Chilean girls with us were being hilarious too. Then we all loaded up in the 4x4 for one more go at the skyfloor. 

Before, when we'd first seen it, it'd been a bunch of giant puddles (for lack of a better words). I hadn't realized, until we set off to see the skyfloor again, that I'd been holding a little tiny bit of my heart back this whole time just expecting to be absolutely floored (or skyed depending on where you're standing). But when the guide said we were going back to look at the sky floor again I knew they'd been saving something and I allowed myself to feel truly exhilarated. 

Now this really really looks like you're driving up into infinity. What I thought had been capturing before I now considered childs play. My eyes were pulsing ecstasy as we entered something I could only describe as sacred. This truly was where heaven meets Earth. This is where heaven meets Earth. That's exactly what I thought as I took my first real steps into the sky...

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Nothing else I could've said would

have done this place any justice. That being said, leaving a place like that isn't just sad. It'll break your heart. It'll break you heart right in two because you're coming down from the clouds. Coming back from the sky, wishing you could lose yourself there and not be found. Going back to the real world is tragic, in a sense, but you'll embrace it with a new sense of wonder when you leave. Because you now know that it's possible to walk in the sky. 

Be happy,

Beacon

P.S. This is me writing this very blog with Zoe drawing the day after we got back

BLOGCEPTION

That time we almost didn't make it into Bolivia

Walkin' down the street on a sunny day next to lake Titicaca (don't worry, I laugh every time I read the name too). Just enjoyin' good ol' Peru. Checking out the little swampland before the lake starts. Admiring the sky blue sky and the immensely puffy clouds taking their time in the distance. Loving the cool air in the sunshine. Hola chica, hola amigo. Que pasa? Que tal? Givin' everyone the head nod. Strolling past the marching band when some old men stop us for a chat and some beers. No biggie, your average day in Peru.

I've heard it said Wyoming is big sky country. Well whoever said that ain't never been here. Because this IS big sky. Not just big sky either, you're in the sky as well. You look up and all you see around you is sky. You can get lost in it and when you're lost in the sky sometimes it can be hard to coime back. Coming from Arequipa to Puno. We came down into Puno, and Puno sits at nearly 13,000 feet. We came DOWN to that altitude. You can high five the clouds as you're rolling down the road in a bus. Alpacas flying past you, flamingos in these sky high lakes, it's gorgeous. 

Lakes full of flamingos (I know right?!)

Somewhere along the way we got some mixed info. At the bus station they said it was $40 for the visa to Bolivia. The guy on the bus said $150. The guy on the Peru side of the border $155. Come on guys... So we arrive at the Bolivian border with what we though was enough cash to get through since leaving Puno they said it'd be $40 each. But apparently we didn't have enough.... And this is South America, there isn't an ATM sitting there all conveniently ye know? Well crap, what do we do? Go back to Peru and forget Bolivia? No! But we already 'checked out' of Peru. We gotta figure this out! We hustle back to the Peru side and find a cab, "Nececitamos un banco rapido!" (We need a bank fast!). And so we re-enter Peru illegaly for a 15 minute round trip ride to the bank, hoping all the while that our bus to La Paz (waiting at the border for everyone to go through immigration) doesn't leave our sorry selves packless ('cause our packs are on board) at the border. We manage to make it back, exchange our sols for dollars (apparently we have to buy the visa for Bolivia in dollars?), and get everything in order for purchasing the visa. Somehow they let us cut the super long line and then you know what? It was only 55 f'n dollars for the visa. We were misinformed at every single step of the way and we hadn't even needed to go back to Peru illegally! 

The gate to Bolivia

So we make it through. Thank goodness, and then we roll into the next town and change to this shabbily adorable little bus packed full of people (with many sitting on the floor). And off we are again! We meet Nina and she helps us out a ton 'cause we all well know I don't know what's happening. So we roll along with the beautiful sunset over lake Titicaca (haha) expecting to wake up in La Paz. Until we stop at the edge of the lake and we all get off the bus and are ushered over to the pier. Apparently this bus ride includes a boat. 

Excuse the blurry photo

We take a boat across while the bus is put on what's basically a log raft and poled across. This little escapade to Bolivia is turning out to be more of an adventure than expected. 3 hours later we roll into La Paz with no idea what to do. But we decide to split a hostel with our new friend Nina! When's the last time that happened to you in America? You meet someone on a bus and neither of you speak the others language well but you buddy up for the night anyways? I think it's pretty darn awesome. 

So y'all be happy,

Beacon :)

C'mon let's get high

Ye know, I don't get it. All these people who have no stake in the game and no experience in the sport telling me what's up and what ain't. Well, this is it boys and girls, I like to travel. I think it's fun. I get some good experiences and some better perspective from it. I've learned more in traveling and working than I ever did in school and I can speak from experience rather than from second and third person accounts of the world. I believe what I believe about certain parts of the world because I've been there, I cannot say I know there completely or even mostly, but I've glanced them. (Disclaimer: if this sounds bitter it's 'cause it's been bothering me a while). It's like when all these peeps are like "Oh no! You're going to South America!? You're gonna get kidknapped and die!" And then I'm like: Hon, when was the last time you went to South America? Ye know what I did in South America the other night? I went to a fly resturaunt in the plaza de armas of Arequipa with my friend Zoe (Ah, it's nice to have company again). We had a huge plate of amazing ceviche for not even 10 bucks while the table next to us was having a grand time playing their guitar and drums. Then they invited us over and bought us beer all night while laughing and taking turns playing songs. And that's what I'll remember about South America, not that I was gonna get kidknapped and die :)

Arequipa

Now that I'm off my soapbox, this is what the blogpost is really about. El Misti. The active volcano behind Arequipa. Standing at a staggering  19,000+ feet. Does anyone else get that thing where they see a giant mountain and immediately think 'I gotta climb that thing'? Well I do. Ever since I heard about it back in Ica I was like I gotta climb this. That is SO HIGH. The highest I'd ever been before was 15,000 feet and that was a couple weeks ago on this very trip. I remember walking a mile at that altitude and huffing for it too. What would it be like climbing a mountain that was over 4,000 feet HIGHER than that!? Jesus it must be breathtaking (pun intended). So me and Zoe set out to find out about this our first day in Arequipa. You either do it in two days or one. We went for the one.

Now there are a few things I must admit before I tell this story. First, I'm terribly out of shape. Second, I was NOT acclimated for that altitude. And third, it's SO HIGH. (Also, kind of by accident, but not by my fault, I had more than a full pack on 'cause the guide peeps wanted me to take more than needed). That being said, let's continue. 

We left Arequipa at midnight in a 4X4 because there is no other way to get there. It takes around an hour to get there. Getting to the bottom you can see Misti looming over you. And I mean looming in every sense of the word. We're about to attempt to hike up 7,000 feet over 10-15 km at a HIGH altitude. Am I ready for this? I don't know. Actually I do know, and it's no haha, but I'm gonna give it a shot because that is who I am.

The morning hike through the sunrise was gorgeous. Absolutely amazing. But needless to say we could feel the altitude from the beginning. And it took us 5 hours to get to the base camp. 

Sunrise over the neighboring volcano 

Unfortunately at base camp Zoe was not enjoying the altitude and optioned to chill there while me and the guide pushed for the top. The base camp is still really really HIGH, but still 6 or so hours from the top. So off me and the dude went. Now this is no mountain in America. There is no trail. This is go. Go up, switchback, do what you gotta f'n do because you're forcing your way through a mountainside of snow at an altitude of higher than you've ever been before by thousands of feet. 

I was feeling good for a while. But then there was a point. Around 17,500 where I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe sitting, resting, and sure as hell not hiking through the snow up a mountain. But I kept going. A little at a time. A switchback at a time. A little more. A little less. Fall over and rest. A little more. Until finally I didn't know if I could go on. But I knew I could. I knew I could force my body to do it. I was at over 18,000 feet and so very close. We had two hours to make it, and I knew I could but it would take the full 2 hours. And then I thought about how out of shape I was and how I hadn't even attempted at getting acclimated and how I still had to go down, and I said 18,000 is good enough for me haha. Plus I didn't want Zoe waiting too long at the altitude in the cold if it wasn't doing her well. And so that's how I almost climbed El Misti, but was still happy with almost climbing it :)

At this point I was pretty wrecked though. Fighting through knee deep snow up thousands of feet at that altitude had done me pretty good. And going down is always hardest... So I basically rolled down the mountain.... 

My roll trail

Which was fucking exhausting as well. The many rocks I threw myself into didn't help either. But, as I said, I was fairly wrecked. We made it back to Zoe at the base camp and started heading down through the volcanic sand and the mist that must've given Misti his name. 

El Misti

When we got back to town, we got a hotel room ($20 a night haha), a hot shower, and collapsed into exhausted sleep.

Be happy all, 

Beacon

PS I woke up today with a raccoon sunburn feeling like someone'd pushed me down a mountain. Which, basically, is what I'd done to myself.

Special Appearance: Zoe

This is a special blog post as it wasn't written by me, this was all Zoe and her entrance into Peru with me. So enjoy a different writing style for a post! 

I guess you could say that ever since my arrival in Lima, Peru, I have been kind of confused. A good confusion, excellent, I'd say. Probably the best confusion one can even experience,  the disorder and slight chaos of experiencing something new and exciting. The fresh feeling of a new culture with new people and lifestyles. But mostly the language,  that's what confuses me the most. I was sat next to a very nice woman on the plane, who lived in Lima. I just remember thinking "Man, if everyone in Peru is as nice as her, life will be great!" I have a hard time sleeping on planes, but I managed to nod off a few times. One of those times being when a man came by with immigration papers, of which the woman seated next to me grabbed for me while I was dancing with father time. After getting off of the plane, it was left to me to figure out where the hell I needed to go. All signs are in Spanish from here on out, though luckily immigration is very similar in both English and Spanish! God bless English's melting pot attitude. It was definitely a refreshing sight to see Harrison waiting on me after customs with a sign reading "Zoe." A nice reunion for sure! Shortly after finding Harrison in the airport, we met up with Victor, who offered to house us for the night. Though before leaving the airport, we had to pick up one last traveler, a man named Lei, originally from China, studying in New York, and going down to Argentina in a month. The bus ride to Victor's was one of my favorite experiences so far, honestly. Nothing can compare to the very first time you are thrust into something new. And that bus ride? So new for me! I've never seen a service run like it was, but now it is very common to me. Imagine a semi - worn down van, filled with 4 rows of very crowded benches,  and a man hanging out of an open door shouting locations and prices in Spanish. Excellent welcome to Peru, I think. My stay in Lima was 90% in Victor's house with his family, which was excellent. According to Harrison,  his house was one of the nicest he'd seen in Peru. Which I believe now! It had stories on stories, to house the people on people that composed his family. And his dogs, of which I only saw two, but they were as sweet as can be. Dogs roam the streets around here, I love it. I have yet to see any dog that looks the same, yet they are all beautiful. Albeit a little dirty. Though I find that to be a good descriptor of Peru in general; beautiful if not a little dirty. Harrison,  Lei, and I  stayed the night at Victor's, arriving at his house at around 1 in the morning thanks to my and Let's late flight, and the next morning enjoyed the awesome instant coffee that Peruvian ' drink with the two matriarchs of the family. The grandmother was sweet as can be, though the communication was difficult. Communication in general for me is very difficult down here, I'm glad Harrison knows at least a little bit of Spanish. That's something that I need to work on more, though I'm picking up a little bit, one at a time. I have yet to have the opportunity to practice though, Harrison's been doin' all the talking, god bless him! From Victor's, Harrison and I took the bus to Ica, where we have been staying for the past couple of days. Though we didn't stay in Ica very long after arriving there, taking a taxi to Huacachina soon after.

 

Haucachina

I could spend forever talking about Huacachina. Huacafuckingchina!!! We were initially wandering around the small oasis, plopping ourselves down on the most picturesque spot on the beach, with a gorgeous view of the sunset in front of us. Harrison ran off for a bit to find us a beer or two, life was good. The sun was setting on the  sand dunes in front of us, cold beer sat between us, lying down on the sand on our packs listening to the sound of the water and the life around us, watching two dogs play behind us... It was gorgeous. And then the impossible happened! Chill mode was fully engaged when we hear a "NO FUCKING WAY!" behind us, and turning around,  it was two New Zealanders that Harrison had met a few days prior in Huaraz, what are the chances? We had some fun with those guys that night for sure. Funny, because in the time between Harrison and them finding each other, they had both picked up people. Me being one of them, and the New Zealanders' Scottish friends had just arrived. They wanted to get some dinner, so even though we had already eaten, we joined them and had some drinks at the restaurant. I got to try pisco sour, which was excellent. I can't wait to try authentic pisco! The waiter during dinner was absolutely hilarious,  he knew how to appeal to tourists for sure. Because he was so chill and cool with us we thought we could try and ask him about good ol Mary Jane, and he went off on some spiel about some bar and "huacafuckcingchina!" Leaving the restaurant,  we sought out a bar for some drinks and very shortly on our journey around the oasis we see a giant sign that reads "HUACAFUCKINGCHINA" and we all just about died, none of us thought that it was a real place! So what was our next course of action? To get absolutely shitfaced of course! I remember dancing with our waiter, and at some point a guy from across the room buying us all more drinks and starting a rousing game of slaps with the ENTIRE bar, basically. Don't know what slaps is?



What's the name of the game? SLAPS!

What's the goal of the game?  TO GET FUCKED UP!



And we definitely did!

 

Huacafuckingchina

The rest of the night is kind of a blur, and I woke up the next morning on the side of a sand dune, stuffed into a sleeping bag with Harrison, and both of us were absolutely drenched in sand. Solid night, I must say.

From huacachina, we headed back into Ica. Our lovely host Werther didn't get off work until 4, so Harrison and I wandered around Ica for most of the day. The food here is stellar, I must say. Chifa especially! Chifa basically just means Asian food here, and it's wonderful. Much like the Chinese food in the states is americanized, the Chifa here has some good ol Peru on it. It's mostly a thai influence, and it's muy bien. (I hope I used that in the right context!) Meeting up with Werther,  we then went to his house. Of which we had full reign! Werther had unfortunately gone through a divorce, which consequently left his house empty, so he now uses it to house his little couch surfers. An excellent use of the space if you ask me. Werther is an interesting guy, and the only other person I've ever met in person that listens to Beyond Creation. I'm glad that we could share our music tastes, he has a very nice collection of death metal CD's and records back at his house. After staying the night there, Harrison and I woke up and immediately headed to Nazca to see the muy importante Nazca lines. It was a two and a half hour bus ride there to spend a mere couple of hours in the town, but it was so worth it. Upon arriving we really had no way of getting up in the plane, but as luck would have it the very first man we talked to was cousins of some people who flew the planes, and he drives us to the mini airport and sent us on our way. The Nazca lines were absolutely gorgeous. I can't even imagine the dedication it took for the ancient people's to move all of those rocks out of the way to make those intriguing patterns in the sand. I'm glad they did though, even if the plane ride made me nauseous as hell. Who knows of they were trying to communicate with aliens, the patterns themselves are a massive feat that definitely needs to be appreciated. As Harrison put it, "the desert is a slow moving ocean!" which just makes the fact that these lines have stayed true despite the test of time even more mind boggling. My mind has been boggled by almost everything I have seen, and I love it. I've only been here for a few days, but I feel like I have fallen in love with the place. I love Ica, all the metal heads I have met there,  and really all of the people and the sights. I can't wait to explore Arequipa!

Hands
 

Spider

Adios!

 -Zoe

Lima to Ica: The waiting game

What, you may ask, ever will I be doing with myself now that Stumbles and Flip are gone? What will I do while all alone in a country where I don't even speak the language? Well, as y'all well know, this ain't the first time it's happened and I doubt it'll be the last, so I'll just float around wherever the wind happens to be blowing as I wait. Ah, the second question, why the waiting game? What am I waiting for? Or whom ;)?

My first full day in Lima was a bunch of muddling through Español, pero luckily I've gotten to the threshold of 'I understand basically everything you're saying, I just talk like a three year old in response'. I look upon it as improvment. I visited the beach and, early in the morning, met a bunch of nice old men sitting out there on buckets. They invited me over to join them and I practiced all I could. And it kept on like that. Meet some nice people, practice Español. Rinse and repeat. All day long. I got a few 'Tu miras Jesus! (you look like Jesus)' while my hair was down, and while it was nothing out of the ordinary it was much more hilarious in Spanish. Got a few more 'guapos' and catcalls too. For some reason I find this one of the funnier things ever. Mostly because I remember, back when I was recently in the real world, there was this person who posted this video about role reversal with catcalls and how funny it'd be on Facebook. Then I come here and get to actually experience it, and yeah, it's as funny as you'd imagine.

Marcus, whos house I was staying at, was having another surfer stay at his house. The new surfer was from Colombia and his name was Jordy. This was more than good because Jordy speaks no English at all. Nada. So me and Jordy got to hang out for a full day and I just practiced my little heart out. And I'm getting better. It's kind of fun being on the end of not speaking the language well, I feel like in America people get so entitled that everyone should speak English and they lose their patience when someone doesn't speak it well. Every once in a while everyone needs a little humility to put 'em back in their place and the better of us can enjoy it. I learned all about Colombia and where to go and what to do and all about these other places and Español as a language from Jordy that day. I enjoyed it greatly. 

The next day me and Jordy left Lima together. He to Cusco and I to Ica (because that's where the wind is currently blowing), but Ica was on his way to Cusco so we got to experiment with the bus system together. Basically we were told 'go find the green and yellow bus, then take it to Mexico' and that's what we did. This bus was more like a really really really really crappy city bus in America. But I guarantee the driver was 100 times better than any driver from the tame streets of America. Because this was Grand Theft Auto style driving, nothing to hold us back other than we didn't use the flying cars cheat. 

Took over an hour to get to Mexico (not the country) and once there we didn't know what to do. Apparently there was a ticket here to Ica for dirt cheap. The tickets at the main bus terminal are 90 sols ($30), we found a terminal here for 30 sols ($10). But even that wasn't good enough. We asked around and were directed to a man on a corner. Shadier than a palm tree (how's that for a simile!?), and he scratched some stuff down on a piece of paper for us. We then walked back to the EXACT same station that was selling tickets for 30 sols and got our tickets for 20 sols. Like what? Why? We didn't understand, but that's all good! I call it another learning experience about the inner workings of Limas bus system. Bueno.

The cheap buses in Peru (still nicer than America) 

And then we were in Ica. Jordy went his way and I mine. I had to wait until 10pm to meet the guy I was staying with. So I goofed off and met some nice people at this coffee shop that kept giving me free coffee and cookies. Ica is a cool city, but people don't go to Ica for Ica. They go for Huacachina. 

Werther met me at 10 in the Plaza de Armas. He's a super cool guy who teaches English to adults here. I learned all about the area and then he showed me how to get to his extra house I'd have all to myself. And I slept pretty damn well that night, but there was still the ever present stress of the waiting game. I dared not stray too far from Lima, but I was exhausting my options of nearby opportunities. Huacachina was the last chance to be entranced for at least a few days and hopefully only a few days ye know? So I fell asleep with Huacachina, the desert oasis only 4km away, on my mind.

Huacachina

It was exactly what I'd imagined. A little piece of paradise tucked inside the desert of Peru. And I spent the next two days chilaxing in the shade drinking Coca-colas and cervezas. 

Oasis at sunset

Then I got the message. The waiting game was over. At the soonest possible time on two accounts. It was over. It was time to set the gears into action and work some magic. That's how I was off, back to Lima. Why back to Lima? You're gonna have to wait to find out ;) 

Be Happy, 

Beacon 

Goodbye my friends

The remainder of my time with Stumbles and Flip was well spent. We spent our last night in Huaraz relaxing, resting, and trying to dry out our soaking clothes. The next morning was a stunningly bright one for the normally rainy Huaraz and we all sat outside at a restaurants patio already looking back on the adventures we'd had together this trip. We could say things like "Hey Beacon, remember that time we fell into a glacial lake in Peru?" and, to us, it was hilarious.

Remembering the journeys we'd taken in the last week and how the already unbreakable bond between thru-hikers had been reinforced even more. Stumbles and Flip were ready to go home and see their friends and family, it was with a heavy heart that I got on the bus to Lima knowing my two friends would be leaving me that night. Even so, the evolution of the scenery outside the bus window did well to keep me distracted. 

Looking back on Huaraz 

Into the desert 

And finally to the coast

We spent the bus ride enjoying the scenery and watching movies in Español. Once we finally arrived in Lima, and the end was near, I can't say I was excited about the adventure ahead of me. I was more sad about the friends I would no longer have with me in Peru. Wasn't worried, just knew I'd miss them. And then, out of nowhere it was time. The couchsurfer, Marcus, I was staying with in Lima found me and it was goodbye Stumbles and Flip. Goodbye hugs were given and then I was off. Off on the next adventure.

I learned a lot about Lima from Marcus that night, most importantly being how the public buses work. Because it's insane. This is how I understood it: you go stand on a corner somewhere and a van rolls by with a guy hanging out the door yelling out where they're going and if your stop is on the way to that destination you jump into the van, often times it seemed without the van stopping. And there are 2, 3, 4 vans pulling in at a time all yelling out a place and people running over and jumping in with every van packed. There certainly was a time I wasn't even completely in the van and was hanging halfway outside as we headed on our way. Don't be fooled though, this was organized chaos and everyone knew what they were doing. It seemed like the most normal thing in the world to them I'm sure. 

Now there is something about a dirty city that is just attractive and ye know what it is? It's culture, it's true pure bred culture. Because being inside a city raises a different sort of person than being outside and it's just interesting to look at and get lost in ye know? I've already spent mornings with old men by the beach and been catcalled (hilarious) up and down the streets of Lima at this point and it's been grand. But getting lost in it isn't the important part. Lot's of people think losing yourself is the fun part. They think throwing away all your cares and getting engulfed by something is the part that keeps things exciting and unpredictable, but I disagree. Losing yourself is a fun part, yes, just not the best. No, losing yourself is not the best part. Finding yourself again after you've been lost is what I yearn for. 

Be happy, 

Beacon

HuarAZ

We arrived back in Aguas Calientes still awestruck from Machu Picchu. But we couldn't afford to sit around and do nada. We had decisions to make. Either we put up the money for the train back or go through another 8 or so hour endeavor to make it back to Cusco. Of course we decided to take the train, mostly because it was something different, which meant we had plenty of time to do some more eating and drinking in Auguas Calientes, don't tell me you're surprised.

As soon as we got on the train I understood why it cost so much (still wasn't that expensive), this train was legit. First off, the view for the whole ride was incredible. Second, they fed us some amazing somethings or others. And thirdly, they put on a fashion show. That's right, a fashion show. Right down the center aisle. And then, in between our staff showing off reversible coats, there was a guy dressed up as a clown thing dancing around and taking all the ladies for a spin. And, through my encouraging, Stumbles was one of the lucky ladies ;)

Stumbles goin' for a spin

It was a damn cool train ride, absolutely worth the money and experience at least to go one way. Once we made it back to Cusco we found a room easily enough, bought a couple bottles of wine, and then we drank in honor of Stumbles birthday!!! Happy birthday Stumbles, that was a damn good day. Hiking that mountain in the shitting rain with you. First, seeing the wonder of Machu Picchu with you beside me as the clouds hovering in and out of the surrounding mountains, ghosting over the ruins. Drinking, chilling, and drinking some more. I'm happy I got to spend that birthday with you. Hell yeah. Happy Birthday Stumbles. 

The next morning it was up at the crack o' dawn again to fly back to Lima. No use crawling out of bed that early considering our flight got delayed like 3 hours. But whatevs, we made it into Lima around midday and, you guessed it, ate and drank our way through the day until we were waaaaaaasted for our night bus to Huaraz (don't call it Huarez haha). And so that's what led to how I lasted maybe 30 seconds on a bus before I was in the sweet embrace of a drunken sleep. Stumbles may have lasted a little longer, but I remember waking up to see her cuddling up to Flip in front of me!

And then we were in Huaraz, dropping our packs at a hostel and loading into a van up to some random day hike at 5000 meters (if you don't know, that's REALLY HIGH... 15,000 feet). It was the highest I've ever been. Lemme' put it into perspective a lil' bit though, we were half way to high fiving an airplane. Also, I pretty much got an instasunburn from it too. Yay for being white (<== sarcasm). So anyways, we take this long bus ride up into the mountains and down (literally up though) this long dirt road to we don't even know what. We didn't know what we were going to see, but it sounded cool. When we finally got to the hiking part we all took about 2 or 3 steps before we were big bad wolfing it (huffing and puffing that is) like we'd just run 10 miles uphill. I was considering the 15 sols (5 bucks) it cost to take a horse up, but we struggled it ourselves. Flip was hating the altitude, and I can't blame him for that. We didn'y even know what we were going through this effort for! Until we rolled over that last little hill and all our complaining about the altitude stopped. 

Glacial Lake

It was a glacier and its accompanying lake. Breathtakingly gorgeous. It was just beautiful. Other than that there's not much to say about it. Except that Stumbles and I fell into the glacial lake trying to get off an iceberg! 

We were the only ones to fall in

After our quick dip we were quickly rewarded by a nice man with a couple shots o' whisky to warm us up ;)

Shots! 

Woo! Go us! Then it was back to Huaraz for a night in an awesome restaurant/library. Yeah, that's right it was a restaurant with books and stuff. Über cool if I do say so myself. 

 Books baby

We put our exhausted selves to bed knowing the next day held the really cool stuff. Lago sesenta nueve (excuse my Spanish). 

Another early bus ride up a long and winding dirt road (we did see a squinny (dunno' what it actually was, but it looked like a bunny and a squirrel had gotten it on at some point)) before seeing the first of the glacial lakes. Everyone in the bus was cooing at that first lake, entranced by the purity in that glacial blue.

Glacial waters

Hike time! It was only like a 6km hike up or something, but at nearly 14,000 feet by the end of it (double instasunburnt). One hundred thousand times worth it. The hike was gorgeous. Absolutely out of a story book. 

Wow

Plus I was hiking with Stumbles and Flip. Just like the good ol' days. Like, I can't explain how hiking with them again makes me feel. True enough to say 'elated' can't hardly touch it, words'll never be enough. Just like words and pictures will never be enough to make you feel what we found at the top. 

Lago 69

Because it was unreal.

Happiness,

Beacon