Boca del Rio

Journaled on January 29th

Where am I? I mean, really. It seems that a hurricane must surely be coming! This town is deserted. A beachside getaway, Boca del Rio boasts itself as the best coastal retreat in southern Peru. It hosts swarms of local Peruvians on the weekends, bringing a liveliness to it. Though, it becomes a ghost town during the weekdays. Today is Tuesday. Hence, it feels like a ghost town. The climate and topography only add to this. Boca is in the fringe driest desert of the world - the Atacama. Massive sand dunes provide its eastern backdrop. I'm very pleased to be here. The beaches are beautiful, and the aura is tranquil.

- Tyler

A Bad Decision in Chile!

Journaled on January 28th

The police were called. My decision seemed to be of the unwise.

Standing on a large bluff, a Christ statue watches over Arica and the Pacific Ocean. This 500-foot-high bluff serves as a separation between the city and the nearby beaches. My hotel was along the beach. A taxi ride around the ascending rock was required to enter the city. Mostly, its composure was of rock and sand. On the beachside, there are vertical drops as well as some areas suitable for hiking down. Though, one must have agility to do this. The cityside contians a path that leads to the Christ.

Earlier in the day, I'd walked around the bluff to arrive at the city. Returning, I decided that I'd make the route direct, going up and over the bluff. Easy task, right? First, I was forced to take a different path on the cityside as a policeman was prohibiting entrance on the primary walkway for some reason. I found that Carnaval fireworks were being setup, which gave reason for the policeman's stance. The views were spectacular as I looked out over the city, the port, the beaches, and the Pacific! Preparing for the descent, I searched for a possible path. Weaving back and forth, I was able to make it down. The last 60 feet were awesome as my feet sank deeply into the slightly damp sand. Leaping and turning my ankles, I made sharp zig-zag cuts in the soft sand as I skied down.

As I gazed upward at my feat, I noticed a steel gate about 200 feet above my current stance. It was blocking the entrance into a cliffside tunnel. Though, the rusted gated looked to be ajar. My curiousity began to poke me as I scouted the terrain separating me from this entrance into the unkown. This would be a steep climb amongst rocks and up a sandy surface. My foot stepped ahead of me, and I began my climb! After a short five minutes, I realized the difficulty that was before me in actuality. I gripped loose rock after loose rock until finally finding a firm one. Even large rocks were not immune to being loose. All found their rooting in the sand. Often, small rockslides would begin beneath me when rocks would fail to pass my test. A fury of dust followed!

My climb continued as I was nearing the gate. Scouring, my hands yearned for a firm grip from above. None could be found. I was only able to move horizontally or downward. Turning my body so as to sit on a firm rock, I looked out at the Pacific and contemplated my next move. I then saw that four people below created my audience. This immediately arose second thoughts in my mind. I sat in contemplation for the next five minutes. A climb of only 60 feet would satisfy my intrigue and allow access into the mysterious tunnel. But the danger was increasing.

Contrary to my desire, I aborted the discovery. The descent down would not be easy. With several onlookers still peering at my every move, I slowly tested several rocks with the tips of my toes. Most were loose. Tediously, though, I began to find my way down. Forty feet remained.

Speeding down the road, two motorbikes headed in my direction. They stopped. The uniformed drivers stared at me. Quickly, they hopped off the road onto the sand and to the base of my descent. My first congratulators had arrived; they were policemen. As Chile is a relatively civilized country, I was reminded that I had forgotten to rid myself of the "third-world mentality" when I crossed over from impoverished Bolivia. Making my way down to the police, I still had to hold focus. In a flash, my hand pulled a loose rock out of place! It barrelled down, striking my left shin. Its signature was blood. The damage was minimal.

"Hola! Lo es un malo idea. ¿No?," I spoke loudly. They nodded in agreement that the idea was a "bad one." Continuing, I said, "Yo hablo poco espanol," figuring that this would further my naivé platform, which was quite accurate. Pulling out his English phrasebook, the policeman pointed to the word "identification." This was surely not leading in a good direction - I thought. In response, I indicated that it was back at the hotel room. Further, I began to ask why no signs indicated the danger that was before us. They shrugged without answer, only commenting on how people have died on that cliffside. I returned the shrug.

Kindly, the policemen said that they would watch me walk back to the hotel so as to make sure that there would be no second attempt. Trust me, their eyes made no difference on my motivation. There was no way that I'd make another attempt! It had become fact to me that this was an initial bad decision.

- Tyler

Sickness...

Journaled on January 26th

I feel weird. Definitely, I'm sick, but it is a different sickness. Illness has pulled me down. I suspect it started with general altitude sickness, which fatigued my body. Without the energy to fight, my body was likely overcome by some form of bacteria. For the past ten days, I've been tired, excluding the three days I spent in the jungle. The lower elevation undoubtedly strengthened me. Returning to La Paz, I found myself slowing after just two days. I then went to Oruro, Bolivia on my way to Uyuni. My planned one night in Oruro quickly turned into three nights. Sickness will do that.

My health soon became of concern to me. Figuring that oxygen would help, I walked to the hospital and into the emergency room. Surely, they would have oxygen on hand. As two oxygen tubes straddled my nose, I relaxed and accepted the ease of breathing for 30 minutes. I paid my due of $1.25 and headed back to my chilly hotel. Only blankets would provide the warmth. The evening that followed was a long one of illness. All liquids and food left my body in all ways. Not even water would remain inside me. My concern for my health grew. This was a sickness that I had not experienced before, and it was happening as I was alone in the second poorest country in South America! Not good.

That night, I was able to sleep and awoke feeling fairly rested. Several meds were now in my body, and I felt that they had slightly helped to strengthen me. Mom connected with a fellow Rotarian per email, and he soon called me. Kindly, he took me to a doctor that is also part of his Rotary club. The day was spent resting, receiving new prescriptions, and inhaling more oxygen. I upgraded to the nicest hotel in Oruro in an effort to recover - a cost of $25. My sickness made a quasi return that evening. Though, again, I awoke rested.

The next day had me on an eight-hour bus ride to Arica, Chile. I would surely recover there while absorbing the sun of the Pacific Coast!

- Tyler

Failure in the Bolivian Jungle

Journaled on January 20th

Crap. Tyler "the adventurer" made a bad move. I'm stuck and have few options. Walking the town for hours, I searched for anyone that might be able to give me guidance. Apparently, no such person exists. Next, I went to the office of the "Captania" to inquire about what boats from Guayaramerin would be setting sail. I needed to get to Trinidad. Turns out that one boat would be leaving for Trinidad at 6:00 p.m. that evening. This would be a six-day passing. I considered the possibility.

Before jumping to a decision, though, I wanted to check on flight availability. None. Flights were full until the 25th. The boat became my primary option. Returning to it, I hopped onto its deck and assessed the conditions that I'd be subjected unto. Not good. "Bilbito" would not be hosting me on this arduous journey - I decided. Only one other option remained. With my backpack stuffed, I squezzed into a "camino" with four other sweaty Bolivians, and we drove to Riberalta.

Four times larger than Guayaramerin, the city of Riberalta also entertains with a smell that is four times as pungent! Arriving early in the evening, I went directly to the office of Amazonas Airlines. Literally, the employee was closing the storefront as I pulled up. We looked at all flight possibilities; she told me that I could catch a flight to Trinidad in two days. "Sold!"

Aiming to get on a flight the next day, I went to the small airport and asked to be on standby. To my appeasement, this worked and I somehow ended up in Lima that evening. My adventure into the Amazon was a disappointment yet an adventure in its own right! I hold no regrets.

- Tyler

Venturing into the Bolivian Jungle

Journaled on January 18th

I am an adventurer. Landing on dirt in the 20-passenger, turbo-prop plane, I had arrived in Guayaramerin, Bolivia (pop. 14,000). As I approached the only "gringos" in the "terminal," I amazed at the large crowd present at this airport waiting area that resembled a city park - complete with kids running around in the surrounding grassy fields. Beginning to ask questions, I tapped into the couple's thoughts about the town that I had just arrived in. Both were hardcore, granola-type backpackers. The girl was quick to say, "You won't be seeing any other foreigners here during your stay." I commented that I was looking exactly for such. Tomorrow, I will go in search of a guide. I will also discover the possibility of taking a cargo boat to Trinidad. The journey is supposedly four days in length. This would likely be an intensely uncomfortable time but, hopefully, worth the growth and the ensuing story!

- Tyler

Machu Picchu

Crowing loudly, the rooster alerted us that we must force ourselves to arise. It was 4:45 a.m. This brought the second consecutive pre-dawn morning for me. Having bonded over our life-endangering bus ride the previous morning, Niall, Martin, Ben, and Nadia also rolled out of bed to prepare for the coming day. We were off to see one of earth’s greatest man-made spectacles – Machu Picchu!

Arriving to the bus pickup location in Aguas Calientes, we were met by nearly 30 other eager, restless souls. We would be one of the first to see this wonder of the world on this day. After the one-hour ride, we slowly walked to the entrance and into the mystical setting that the Andes Mountains portrayed. As the sun had yet to show itself, several clouds crept around us in the presence of the low light. Climbing step after step, my breath was running thinner, but my anticipation was building faster.

Turning around, I became overwhelmed. Machu Picchu was before me! A surreal moment followed. Such an awe-inspiring feeling within me has been brought forth in my life very few times. Set amongst a lush and dramatic topography, these Incan ruins are simply a remarkable marvel that brings inspiration. The ability to build such a remote site in the mid 1400s is incredible alone. The intricate design and the setting in which it was built is what draws forth feelings of amazement.

We spent the full day discovering Machu Picchu. It still had a slight feel that it could be “explored” as very few parts were cordoned off and there were few park officials placing restrictions on visitors. Hiking for an hour, Niall, Martin, Ben, and I ascended Huayna Picchu, which overlooks the ruins. The views were phenomenal as we were able to truly take it all in.

If you have the opportunity, I strongly encourage you to travel to Peru and journey to Machu Picchu! Thankfully, for most of you, this can be done in luxury. As you know by my experiences, it can also be done on a shoestring budget. Either way, you must visit this mystical and inspiring place. Machu Picchu marks the sixth of the “Seven New Wonders of the Worlds” that I’ve been to. It ranks at the top of the list in my mind!

- Tyler

Peligroso on the Peruvian Bus!

This morning, I went on an insane bus ride to Aguas Calientes, which is the gateway city to Machu Picchu here in Peru. Danger confronted us in an intense manner. The only way to get to Aguas Calientes is by train, which is a ridiculous $100 roundtrip.

However, there is one slight backway I discovered. It required going to the desolete town of Santa Maria (arrived at 11:30pm last night) and then boarding another bus to Santa Teresa (left at 4:00am this morning). The small town was deserted, but there was thankfully one hostel. Its several tents were full. The owner gave me his bed though, which was the bottom of a bunkbed. He slept on top bunk and alongside his cook. And, he didn't charge me for the short night!

After sleeping three hours, I boarded the 4:00am bus. We drove for about 40 mins only to stop in the middle of the dirt road in near darkness. The little light that did exist revealed a dropoff only feet from the edge of the road that was likely over 700 feet. The sound of a rushing river came from that depth. Turns out a mudslide had blocked the road and we could not go on. So, we started going back down the mountain in reverse! (Remember it is incredibly dark outside and the cliff is only feet from our outside tires.)

The bus then comes to a stop as the driver begins to turn the wheels hard. Quickly, we realize that he is going to try to do a 3-point turnaround (more like a 7 -point). There was no way. Literally perpendicular to the road, our back tires were teetering on the edge of the cliff. Another two feet, and we were sure to soar down the mountain side. Shrieks of fear from the back seats of the bus ringed. Unbelievably, we did turn around and backtracked.



There was another route that we would take. We suspected it would take longer and be more challenging. It was. On several occassions, we passed by mudslides that covered the road. One time, there was a bulldozer pushing mud and rock onto the rushing water covering the road. We were the first to attempt the cross after his work was finished. Again, we somehow passed it. Throughout this bus journey, varying levels of fog persisted. After all, we were high in the andes mountains.

This is the essence of adventure - and danger. I've only had a few very dangerous situations in my life. This ranks as one of them. My probability of dying was definitely much higher during this ride than at nearly all other times of my life. And, it was for a good four hours!

Haha! Life is good. As long as I go out living with passion and in pursuit of stronger spiritual conviction, I'm content. Whenever that is, I hope that the drive for passion will continue to live on in those I've spent time with. Though, I also hope that I can be with a lot more people for many more years to come!

- Tyler

Life As a Story.

We all live a story. This is my story. Watch as it continues to unfold!