Wednesday 24 October 2012

Sky High with the Gods, Sorata

As long as I can remember, I've always loved the outdoors. I can still recall helping build (before destroying at least) my neighbours wooden cubby house in an empty paddock down the street; I'd forever run a muck during any of dads hunting or camping trips; and how could I forget those all day ventures up into the so called 'Valley of the Hares' with my uncle & cousin. I don't really know what was wrong with me as a child to be honest. I guess I had one of those unexplainable exploratory imaginations. My world was made for adventure. Anything seemed plausible. I'd often sit with my nan for hours at a time, boring her with a multitude of tall tales on all the great things I'd one day do, and all the exotic far away places I'd one day see. I wonder what the ol' dear would have made of me these days; fourteen years later, alone & lost somewhere high in the Bolivian Andes, scampering through dodgy looking back-end mining operations, and chasing alpacas up fog blanketed slopes. Well now...I can just picture her there, sitting back in that chair, having a wild crack - neither of us should have been in the slightest bit surprised. After all, these kind of situations tend to follow me like a shadow. It seems all that childhood mischievous behaviour skipped the boat & transpired seamlessly into adulthood. Can I get away with anything?? So far, so good...I must say. The Gods ain't got shit. It must be true. Let's go build some bombs.

The Illampu/Ancohuma Massif near Sorata
Speaking of bombs...I well thought I was on the way to becoming mushed mince the other day. I wonder what it must feel like to be blown into a million tiny little pieces?? I had hit the straight & narrow. No more party for me...for a while at least. Surely that couldn't be the only thing to do at night in La Paz!! I sat around in the courtyard with a growing number of rowdy revellers, trying in vain to quietly blend into the background. Who was I kidding?? I never pull this shit off. HaggardHaz was nagging me over & over again to head up stairs and smash a couple of Timmay Bombs that we only just got put fresh on the menu. For every five Timmays we sold, HaggardHaz & I got one free. Not a bad deal, but today wasn't the day. I hid in the movie room. By the time I came back out, everyone was well smashed & it was only about 5 o'clock in the afternoon!! Ahhh...La Paz, you're bound to kill me. One of the dudes had some terrorist rag on his head - "Alex, what the fuck are you wearing??" - he didn't look at all capable of answering, but managed something slightly audible - "I'm a fucking freedom fighter, check out the dynamite..." - "WOAAAHHH" - I nearly fell back off my seat!! He wasn't shittin' me; out of his pocket came a legit stick of fucking dynamite!! "Where the hell did you get that from you idiot?!!" This time he didn't muster an answer; he simply stumbled off to pass out in bed, dribbling all over the walls on his way out. Everyone had lost it by this point, I think I was the only one sober. Some German guy went to his room & salvaged his explosives. Apparently he'd been carrying four or five sticks around since visiting the mines in Potosi, and him & his mates had plans to blow up a cactus somewhere outside of town!! I just couldn't sit there in complete tranquillity with that stuff staring back at me. I got up to leave. I didn't want to be a downer on the party. "Hey Nicko!! Catch this!!" Ohh, you fucking retards!! Here comes a stick of dynamite whizzing through the air towards me!! It bounces off the wall, and snaps in half. "What the fuck is wrong with you people?!!" Everyone was in fits of laughter. I didn't really know what to do. I was laughing halfheartedly more out of disbelief than anything, but on the inside I was packing piss & shitting sardines. All I could picture was Wile E Coyote roasting himself on the side of some deserted highway as Road Runner scoots on past. Beep, Beep!!

The Lovers of Bombs Mob
Well, somehow I'd managed to survive the first round. No more downstairs fiesta for me. The bloody buffoons were still having a great ol' time with that same stick of dynamite. They'd simply taped it up & sat it back on the table. Apparently they'd even gone as far as throwing it at some poor chick who'd just checked in & was all on her own. It wasn't looking good. So by the time our posse was completely smashed & the night was beginning to gear up in the bar, everyone walked off from the courtyard one by one, not giving a second thought about that dangerous, unstable wad of nitroglycerin still left dormant alongside all the empty beer bottles. Now who would have thought management might have been a little bit pissed about this when they eventually stumbled upon it??...and given the fact HaggardHaz & I kind of knew management, we ended up as the first to be hounded...

"WHO THE FUCK BROUGHT IN THE DYNAMITE!!??" These guys sure didn't look too happy. I felt like I was back in primary school, getting ripped into by my saggy-faced catholic 3rd grade teacher for jumping the back fence & playing fruit wars before class each morning. "We've got no idea to be honest bud," - bad answer - "Fuck off you don't know!! I've got you all here on the video cameras!!" Yep, we were screwed. That was for sure. Although I did actually know who brought it in, there was no way I was going to be the nark. "Look, if you've got us all on camera, can't you simply check over again who brought it in?? We've truly got no idea..." - "Don't you fucking pricks try to tell me what to do!! We've got you all here on camera, and if you'd like, we can easily call the police & have you alllll done on attempted terrorism charges. Fancy a bit of a stint in San Pedro do we?? Won't have to barter your way through those gates after all..." How was all this happening?? I'd been running scared shitless away from the damb stuff!! HaggardHaz was pretty messed up at this point - "Aight, so it goes then. We've got no idea who brought it in, I guess you're gonna have to lock us all up." Ohhh, fuck Haz...hold your drink mate. The owners were fuming, and had just sent us lot upstairs to collect everyone else that had been sitting around at the table, when the German burst through the door & confessed it all. I have to admit, I was very relieved. It took the nark devil right off my shoulder, and meant we wouldn't be spending this jubilant evening staring back through the bars of La Paz's most notorious penitentiary. I felt a little sorry for the German guy, but since he coughed up they let him off with a bit of a fine & one mighty slap on the wrist warning. Lesson learnt...don't bring bombs to party a hostel.

With no hard feelings called by all parties involved, I guess I had to have at least one quiet drink. Feeling slightly defeated, I followed HaggardHaz back into the bar. "Heyyy!! It's the terrorist!!" Everyone was now looking at me. What the fuck?? How did I become the blastered pyro?! "NickiBoi, you really shouldn't be bringing stuff like that into a hostel...it'll get you in trouble you know." I finally realised they were having me on...I'm quite easily fooled some times. It was fluro night, so we had a laugh & painted lit sticks of dynamite on both my arms. The Timmays turned out to be a hit. HaggardHaz was on a fiery promotion rampage, which meant I got more free booze than I intended. I ended up spending the night, flabbergasting away with some hot Danish chick who I initially thought was German"Guten tag, amiga!! Wie geht es dir?" I'd brought my new German bombsquad mate along with me to help in some simple humorous formalities. She looked a bit puzzled..."I'm Danish..." Aight, strike one!! "Hahahaha, you Aussie idiot!!" Bombsquad drifted away in hysterics.

Bangin' Bitches with Chocolate Bars??
After another more that expected hectic night at The Rover, I woke early & got my shit together for some real fun. The reason I didn't want to drink the night before was that I'd booked myself in for a three-day intimidating climb of a 6,088 meter snow-capped mountain, just outside of the city. In truth, it looked like a monster. Ever since I'd began climbing mountains on a regular basis back home, had I dreamt of doing some actual proper mountaineering. Never did I believe it would ever honestly happen. For one, it's mighty expensive!! Lot's of gear would have to be brought or borrowed, & guides in New Zealand or Europe charge bucket loads for an intensive program. Secondly, I enjoy hiking & rock-climbing as separate entities, and I also love messing about in the snow; but serious mountaineering presents itself with a lot more 'value of life' questioning. It's the next step up on the risk factor. Was I ready for it?? Hell's yea!!! Never again might I get the chance to climb a serious mountain such as this one so cheaply!! At least not in the near future anyway. Huayna Potosi was on, 100%. I couldn't have been more excited.

Huayna Potosi
Once we'd all been geared up in the shop in La Paz, we took off in a van towards the mountain. Aesthetically, it looked like a giant white-tipped pyramid, savagely piercing the innocent clear blue skies. We pulled into Base Camp, and slumped all our crap across the mattress beds. Food was ready, so we go stuck into some much needed munch. Then it was time for climbing practice!! Wearing all of our gear, we trod off up into the hills towards the glacier, streaming down a channel of the mountain. I'd signed up with a cross-Tasman bud from New Zealand, & we both gazed in unison at the natural beauty of the entire area, unable to dignifiedly collect our thoughts with the appropriate words. We zigged & zagged our way up and down the glacier, before skirting around the side for a short taste of ice-climbing. Now for those of you who have never done this before, prepare yourself for one hell of a work out!! I've done a fair bit of climbing in the past, and assumed that it wouldn't be to different. How wrong I was. By the time I'd got half way up the wall my arms were pumping!! I wasn't too sure if I'd make it all the way to the top! It'd been a long time since I'd gone climbing, but the thrill was still there. I missed the pump. Using your muscles till they can work no more. I used to love coming off the wall & not being able to turn my cars steering wheel unless I kept open palms. Now I couldn't keep a hold of my ice axe. Bliss. A strange satisfaction.

Ice Climbing!!
The next day was an easy one. All we had to do was hike a casual 500 meters or so in elevation until we reached High Camp, where we would spend the afternoon relaxing & acclimatizing before the late night push to the summit that evening. I was enjoying the fresh air; it always seems too long between stints these days. The rest of the Cordillera Real began to appear before us, stretching far off into the distance as far as the eye could see. More glaciers made themselves present, and soon the route towards the pinnacles could be made out through the crevassed plagued fields of snow. I sat outside for most of the day enjoying the magnificent views, before taking a brief siesta. An early dinner was then had, and afterwards it was supposedly time for bed. I'd had a few friends that had already been to the top, and each of them had told me it was no climb to underestimate. It was going to be tough; I knew this - so I desperately wanted to snag a decent sleep. As it goes, it's always when you need it that it just won't happen. I sat awake for hours, with every possible thought running through my head, apart from those to do with the mountain. I thought about Europe, & the coming to an end of my Latin American odyssey. I thought about home; the outdoors, summer fun & my friends...then I thought about fucking YogaChick!! She was heading to Central America in a few weeks & I was terribly missing the beach; it would be surreal to meet up with her, and I'd kill to be out diving again. Doof!! Snap out of it!! Get to sleep. It's hard to keep some thoughts under control out here sometimes. I think I eventually nodded off for half an hour or so at least...

Hiking to High Camp
Wake up came so soon, but there was reason to get my ass up out of bed for once. We had one phat mountain to climb. Breakfast was mauled, and I fitted myself up in all my gear. Surprisingly, it wasn't all that cold outside; so I decided to leave my extra jumper behind. I'm never cold at the worst of times...apparently. Glen (the New Zealand guy) and I were the first ready & on the move. We roped up to each other & then to our guide, attached our crampons, and took off out into the darkness. It didn't seem all that bad. For the first hour or so it was all pretty cruisy going. There were times where we had to step over a few bottomless crevasses, and places where slopes slid away down the mountain at an 80 degree angle, and all we had to walk on was a mere meter or less of solid snow. It was all fairly exhilarating. I love this kind of stuff. I don't know how people can live their entire lives without a little thrill of uncertainty, risk or adrenaline. These are the moments when I honestly feel the most alive. Everything else is filler in comparison. One could lye there dormant & mute, a slug hiding under a protective shell; or one could take a punt & come have some fun. Possibly the time of ones life. Sure shit happens, but I know I'd rather die living than living dead.

A mouth full of choco during the night accent
A good three hours had passed by the time the real hard work began. I was becoming more & more difficult to breathe, and our obstacles were multiplying in both number and technicality. We'd reached a jagged complex of icy augmentations. It was like a series of platformed mazes, with solely one direct & safe route across. We took our time, and had plenty of breaks. It was harder going than I expected. Towards the top there was even a section where we had to scramble up some rocky crags. It was a little dodgy wearing the crampons & a little awkward with an ice axe in hand, but overall we managed. Now all there was that separated us from the summit, was a paper-thin serrated ridge. It was one hell of a spectacle. Carefully we trotted across & then up to the tippy-top!! Woohooo!!! What an incredible feeling of absolute jubilation when you take that final step to put you smack on the summit!! We'd done it. I could tick scaling a hefty 6,000'er off the life list!! It was time for a rest & to revel in our achievement. We were easily the first group up, and used this time to take in the pre-dawn peace & serenity. Once the sun did begin to peak its head above the horizon, we were greeted to the most spectacular view I think I've ever seen. The entire Cordillera Real could be made out to the west; in front of us was a sea of cloud, dotted with towering mountain islands. I felt on top of the world. I was one with the sky. How many people get to see something like this in their lifetimes?? I felt more than lucky. Shit...in truth, I think I was nearly in tears. That morning will always hold a very special place in my memory.

At the Summit!! Woohooo!!
The return leg was slow & hot. It didn't take the sun long to warm up our surroundings; and given the reflections off the snow, I'd bet it was ten degrees warmer than it should have been. I couldn't handle all these damb clothes!! I'd stripped down to my beater by the time we'd reached High Camp. A rush of relief, yet also one of slight sadness crept up on me when I finally got to sit down & look back at what we'd just done. It was over. Would I ever get this privilege again?? I had to simply savour the moment. Glenn & I enjoyed some freshly cooked soup, and spent an hour or so kicking back in the sun. One by one, other groups staggered into camp. Unfortunately, not everyone had made it however. Two Canadian guys had chose to push it out over just two days. One of them had only flew from Vancouver to La Paz a day ago!! He was chucking his guts up even at High Camp. It was pretty ambitious & more than a little stupid in all fairness. For me it was a great case study in the effects & limitations of altitude sickness. Believe me. It is real.

Coming back down. Check out the views!!!
Once back in La Paz, I felt like a new man. Something clicked up there, and I didn't want to let it go. I took it easy that night, avoiding the bar & all form of prerequisite merrymaking. I made a decision the following morning to make a quick exit & head straight to Sorata, the so called 'Garden of Eden,' perched in a lush valley at the western end of the Cordillera. The small town was supposedly a mecca for hikers, and this attracted my attention. Once away from the big smoke, the cash flow settled back into a much more comfortable & acceptable spending rhythm. The four hour bus ride cost a mere $2, & a decent room for the night cost little more. This happy-go-lucky pricing agenda seemed to fluctuate significantly when I made some enquiries into the guiding services around town. They were asking a whopping 300 Bolivianos per day, for a single guide & mule. At that price I could scale up Huayna Potosi all over again!! They weren't too keen on me purchasing a map either...looks like I was going up on my own.

I printed a shitty black & white map off the Internet from some climbing website, and studied the single lines and dots intensely. In hindsight, this probably wasn't the best idea. I grabbed a stack of food, and called it a night. The views out over the valley as the sun went down from the balcony of the El Mirador Hostel were phenomenal. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. Well so it started out at least...

View from El Mirador Hostel
I was charging!! I felt as fit as ever. With all my overnight gear crammed into my small pack, I took off early out of town. Up the steps, round a few bends, past a couple of drunks (who had already polished off ten bottles between them by 7 o'clock) and I was clear out of the civilised eye. As I went I would ask locals for directions. They simply kept pointing me onwards. I was quite satisfied I was heading the right way. What else was there to to but keep on walking & keep on believing. I crossed a small bridge, and snuck my way through a tiny village. At the top of the terraced crop fields, I ran into a young kid on his way to school. I asked again for directions, and he named the lake I was making for and pointed me on in the direction I was going. This was perfect. Half an hour or so later, I ran into a few cholita's herding sheep up into the mountains. They didn't really seem to want to know me, but I forced a reply out of them with constant hassling & "baaaa's" at their stock. I was sent off in some grunted direction yet again. By the time I'd reached the top of this large hill I was pretty wrecked. The sun was out in force, and I'd easily covered a good 1500 meters or more of altitude. I could see the Illampu/Ancohuma Massif dead ahead, and remained fairly optimistic. All those hopes were soon dashed however, when the spiralling road I was following came to an abrupt & sudden end. There was nothing around but further hills & rolling grass lands. No foot track continued. "Fucking wankers!!" Why would they have told me to keep on going when they knew very well that the lakes weren't in this fucking direction!! I turned around, back down the steep hill I'd been climbing for the better part of an hour. I could see some kind of buildings off in the distance, and thought I'd go check them out and figure out where I actually was.

Happy Hiking
Before long, I was standing bewildered in the middle of some messed up mining community. This wasn't the best of scenarios to be in right now. I'd heard some nasty tales about gringo's trudging through these kinds of places, and I surely wasn't in the mood for a fist or knife fight. I was just about to turn back for Sorata, when a gangly old guy comes wobbling out from behind some large rocks. "Hola señor!! Buenas Tardes!!" I then asked him in my rapidly improving español, whether he knew how to get to the lakes from here. He seemed to!! Up those slopes apparently...two hours or so...big lake...there's even a camp and everything. I looked up the hill...there was no track what so ever. I asked him if he was sure..."Si, si!! Arriba, arriba!!" What other options did I have?? It was either I take his word for it, or I slump back to Sorata utterly defeated. I made for the hills. It took everything else I had left out of me. I sat and stared back at the mining community, trying to figure out what best to do. I took another glance up at slopes above me & came to the conclusion that I couldn't be too far off the top of this lip. Over the other side might well just be the lake!! I dropped my pack & bounded. Soon I was at the top...and in front of me stood another hill. Fuck!! Alright, this one wasn't all that big - just smash this one out & call it. I had it done in no time, but I felt I was hitting the wall. This time in front of me was a lake...but I have no idea which one. It definitely was not the lake I was after. I didn't care by this point. This would do for the night. Back down I went to fetch my bag...only, there was no bag to be fetched...I'd forgot where I'd bloody left it!!!

Now, this has happened to me on more than one occasion, but never on such drastic terms. In that bag hides my passport, my bank cards, my money, my camera, my tent, my sleeping bag, and alllll my food. Not to mention all my warm clothes! I was staring glassy-eyed into my misty surrounds in nothing more than shorts & a t-shirt. FUCK!! How does this always happen!?! It was getting late, and I guess I began to panic. I overestimated how far down I'd left it, and then found myself having to walk exhausted back up the steep craggy hills. I ran into a pack of confused looking alpacas, so I chased them for a bit to keep me occupied and take my mind off things. A good hour passed before I had the sense to go back to the lake & retrace my steps. By this time I was famished...my energy levels were so low I could have just passed out in the grass & gave the cold night it's best shot at taking this soured soul once and for all. Praise the Lord!! This tactic worked!! There behind some rocks was my backpack...safe & sound...back in my control. Never again will I be doing something so fucking stupid!! Until next time of course...I practically crawled my way back up to my planned campsite, where I sent up my tent in spite of constant leg cramps, & cooked a bangin' broth for dinner. Then I ate all of my chocolate. Then I read. Then I listened to some music. Then I slept.

My lake I found...
I'd managed to stay asleep all through the morning!! When I did finally wake up it was drizzling constantly outside. I read some more for a while before getting bored, biting the bullet & packing up my shit despite the rain. It only took 15 minutes or so to escape it anyway. A grey cloud hung over the mountains, below the skies were far reaching & blue. I slid my way quietly through the mining get'up, and made a quick break for home. I was a little disappointed at not making my initial destination, but in retrospect, it sure made for one hell of an interesting adventure. And that's what it's all about after all. Tomorrow's a mystery, and I like it that way. Keeps me off those satin sheets...Laterz!!

I'd just like to thank God for not yet striking me down with his all mighty hand.
I swear I am truly a good kid at heart.
Amen.

Sunrise from the Summit
Ice Formations!!
Summit Ridge & The Cordillera Real
Love for now, Nicko!!
Take it while you can...xxx

Wednesday 17 October 2012

Back on the Road, La Paz

Well, thank fuck for that!! After losing nearly two months of life, an odd six thousand soles, and half my liver; I'm finally back on the road. I still couldn't actually believe I was leaving Cusco, that'll own Peru. It seemed like eons had passed on by since I'd first crossed over from Ecuador & made for all that mayhem in Mancora. What an amazing country...possibly the highlight of my trip. Mountains to beaches, jungles to desert; this country has it all. No wonder I kept on jumping ship. One time I was actually in a cab on my way to the bus terminal; yet only made it three blocks down the street, before I got scared, scrambled out & ran back home to The Rover. What a dick. I even needed help to pack my bag. This kid had turned invalid. What was happening?? On the bus that night to Puno, I started having red bull withdrawals because of all those blastered Timmay Bombs!! I reckon we were going through at least four or five a night. Great common sense from a lad who makes teeth for a living...but the heart murmurs passed, and so did the uncertainty. This was happening, and it surely had to. Enough was enough. The rest of the continent was calling. South bound we go!!

The Bomb Squad!!
I was lucky to have such a bitchin' posse when I actually did get the hell out of there. I don't think it would have happened otherwise. Nails was there for shits & giggles, Meera's tattooed head became my metaphor for balls-out bravery, and these two google eyed Sydney-siders were just a great ol' craic. I'd over stayed my visa by a good ten days by the time we made it to the border, and the bloody sponges had me ushered away into a separate building to pay up a hefty fine & fill out some additional paperwork in retaliation. When I came back out the bus and everyone else was gone!! I'd come so close to this happening before, and here we go again!! However, I'd forgot we still had to pass through Bolivian customs...I only had to duck up and over the hill. I'll tell you what though - the altitude up here was a killer. I felt like a right idiot puffing & panting when I eventually caught back up. The crossing itself was located smack beside Lake Titicaca (the highest navigable lake in the world & the most voluminous in South America), a breathtaking expanse of ocean coloured fresh water. We were treated to incredible views the whole trip around on the bus, as the road closely hugged the shoreline all the way to the small tranquil village of Copacabana, where we all planned to spend the next couple of days.

We practically slept for most of the remainder of that day. The binge had finally caught up with me, and at last I could completely pass out!! How good I felt come the next day!! The spring was back in my step. How had I not seen the light sooner?! It was time for a venture out to Isla del Sol, the sacred location of the Inca's creation story. The boat ride was slow & tedious, but the sun was out in force and we couldn't have asked for a finer day. Dropped at the northern end of the island, Nails and I took off hiking south across the parched & barren island. I was a little bewildered by the place in all honesty, how people managed to live in such a stark environment I couldn't seem to understand. I mean, the place more than lived up to its name; it was truly stinkin' hot!! But there didn't seem to be any crops, running creeks, or any real reason to be there at all. The locals were nice enough though (once we'd paid up our passing of course), and would often point us in the right direction. A bunch of young school kids burst out of class at one time when we were walking on by, and followed us down the beach. Nails towered over them like an ogre, and it made for a funny picture as they tried to communicate to us clueless patrons in a 'I'm not actually sure what??' kind of hybrid language. The day was capped off lying about in the sun, soaking up some skin cancer; gulping down melted snickers bars, waiting for our return boat. The fresh air had been nice, but it was time to go spaz in La Paz.

Isla del Sol
Yes, this was my great escape...from one Wild Rover to the next. From what I'd heard, this place had an even crazier reputation than Cusco. I was a little nervous after those few days of good health. Thankfully there had been a giant cocaine bust up a couple of months back, so that had apparently tamed the town down some what. That didn't seem to make much of a difference to us however; our crew was enormous!! It was like the entire entirety of Cusco had migrated in one great wave, bringing all that revelry & excitement along for the ride. I think we started wayyyy too early hey...by 9 o'clock the whole bar was a mess. As for me, I think I was having trouble to adjust. It felt strange being over the other side of the bar, paying full price for booze & not being able to serve my own drinks. If I lost doice I'd be screwed!! It was all down hill from there...I got angry & blamed La Paz, as well as all those unworthy fuckers who inhabit the place. Go to bed Nicko...you're sleeping in the loser room again tonight. Surprise, surprise; I woke up the next day with quite the sore head. Don't let it happen again my friend...suck it up & bounce back.

What better way to kick start my heart, than to go bomb the shit out of 'The Worlds Most Deadliest Road' on a mountain bike!! Ahhh, what a buzz!! This is what I've been missing. Decked out in knee pads, matching jackets & some overly over sized helmets; our group all mounted up on duelies and took off down the mountain. Boy, was that first twenty minutes or so freezing or what!! There was sleet flying in across the lake, and I'd opted for the short-shorts. My balls were snapped like ice cubes, yet that was strangely far from thought. I was ecstatic. Back on the bike, back outside & back on track. Booyahh!! It was even more surreal once we'd finally left the tarmac. The edge of the road just disappeared over sheer cliffs, out into the abyss. At the top you couldn't even see the actual drop because of the hanging cloud, perceiving an eerie atmospheric aura. I went as hard as I possibly could, blitzing the rest of the crowd; trying my best to catch that slippery guide up front. A few times my back wheel shot out close to the edge when I underestimated a corner, but that only got the heart racing harder and made me even more excited. Down-hill mountain biking is like a game of dodgem; there's a confidence factor & you can apparently make it what you want. I was pushing fast, and there was no way I was coming off - think any differently & you might just end up in a nasty situation like our unfortunate friend Cindy here...

Back on the bike!!
So, I still can't quite catch the guide...he beats be to the post yet again. There's a mad gap between us and the rest of the pack however, so I'm still feeling pretty chuffed. Soon a few of the other guys pull up beside us for a short break, and we all go about having a great ol' rant about the ride. About five minutes pass by before we realise there's been no more riders following up behind. We joke about someone somersaulting off the edge...but when another five minutes pass on by we begin to realise that that's probably just what might have happened. Then Byron rocks up & gives us the harsh news..."yea this chick just went over the edge hey..." - (I just loved his next comment) - "...ohhh but don't worry, it was no one we knew..." Turns out we kind of did, and it was one of the girls in our group after all. If she'd been travelling along like a snail I would have branded her a buffoon, but in all fairness she'd been keeping up with the lads more so than any other chick I'd ever seen. Just not her lucky day I guess...actually, in reality luck it seemed was more on her side than we'd have believed. Apparently Cindy had managed to drop a good 20 - 30 meters straight over the edge of a cliff. She'd bailed on the bike, rolled down a bank & came to rest amongst some trees. Had it been any where else on that road and I'm sure she would have been dead. In the process she lost her sunglasses & one shoe, then had to get pulled back up to safety clipped to a rope. It was a pretty epic tale. One that quickly got passed around the bar that evening and moldered into late night folklore.

Our posse hangin' off a cliff
After a few more days it was time to scoot out of La Paz for a while atleast, and head back into the Amazon Jungle!! The last venture had been a trip highlight for sure, and I was pretty keen re-emerse myself in all that festering bio-diversity. Everyone warned us about the bus from La Paz to Rurrenabaque, but at a cost of a mere 90 Bolivianos (in comparison to like $100 for the flight), and me now being a seasoned veteran of the long-distance bus and all - how could I turn down the adventure?? It sure turned out to be interesting, let's just put it like that. Bunked up with Panther & Red for company, it took us a good 30 hours or more to reach our final destination. Having survived the perilous 'death road' like journey down from the mountains, I thought our problems were over. Instead, at about midnight the bus decides to turn off its engine & wait for the crack of dawn to continue, as we've become stuck in the mud. That spot wreaked!! By morning the muddy road outside had been transformed into an open-seweraged toilet. I stepped off to piss at one point & found a little old lady taking a dump up front beneath the wheels!! Moving on from here proved a slow process. It was around 9 o'clock by the time we eventually got going again, and we didn't reach Rurrenabaque until just before dark. Save our grace, we thankfully made it to the travel agencies to book our Pampas tour before the shops shut. All was good. Some how we'd made it. Now it was time to nod off to sleep.

Stuck in the mud on the way to Rurre
It was a long and bumpy ride out to the river in a beaten up old jeep the following day. Things kept falling off from underneath the vehicle, and the front window looked like it could cave in on itself at any given moment. By the time we loaded up and boarded our small boat, I was well & done with land travel for a while at least. The river made for a refreshing change. Practically as soon as we hit the water, animals large & small were everywhere!! Alligators & Black Caiman's sat on the river banks, basking in the afternoon sun. StorksKingfishers & even a pack of Macaws dominated the skies. There were Turtles piled up in conga-lines, giant guinea pig like wombat things called Capybaras frolicking in the mud, and pink Spoonbills searching out a feed through the reeds. I loved spotting out the monkeys. A whole mob payed us a curious visit as we pulled up beside in our boat. Later than night we even got to head out for an evening punt along the river in search of the Caiman's evil glowing eyes. It was a perfect start to a perfect excursion. There is something truly tranquil about falling asleep to the sounds of the living jungle.

Squirrel Monkeys!!
Now for the big players!! Today we were off in search of the mighty Anaconda!! I'd seen a little baby one wrapped around a tree back in Ecuador, but I'd heard you often find the monsters out here. A short walk buffed up in rubber gum-boots had us wading vagina deep through a swamp. The scenery was beautiful; purple flowers stretched as far as the eye could see, and sometimes you'd even stumble upon small murky pools clad with cartoon like lily pads. It was hard to know what we were meant to be looking for, but it would have been a fun banter even if we hadn't stumbled across the big snakes. Just as we were losing our shit over this little baby alligator that we happened upon, one of the most incredible things I've ever witnessed took place about 20 meters away, over in the swamp. Out of the water splashed & thrashed this mighty croc; rolling and tumbling making a great ol' commotion. In his mouth was the biggest, most fattest boa I am yet to see. It was gigantic!! As thick a softball, and I'd say at least 4 to 5 meters long!! This was raw nature. We couldn't have planned this. People could sit for days or weeks & never see anything quite like it. Something straight out of a David Attenborough doco. The croc finished the anaconda off with a characteristic death roll, before other alligators & caiman's circled in to join the feast. I was blown away. It was hard to believe what I had just seen.

Sammi & me with an Anaconda!!
We ended the day with a small dose of piranha fishing. Ugly suckers that they are...and damb hard to catch!! Between us we only got two I think, as well as a bucket full of cat-fish. That night we fried one up & shared him around the dinner table. Not the best sushi I've ever had, but something fishy all the same. I think the only possible thing that could have topped the tour of the Pampas itself was the strawberry thickshakes back in Rurrenabaque...holy shit son - blow your load material!! I almost packed up shop & moved in permanently solely for that reason. But that wasn't the way things happened to turn out. Now here I am, back in La Paz, having survived the bus yet again; gearing myself up for my next Bolivian adventure...somewhere!!

Piranha Fishin'
In the mean time, cheerio sucka's!!
Keep yourself sane & sanitised. 
Much Luvin', 
Nickiii Boi!! xxxxxxxx

Snake hunting in The Pampas
Choice.