I just got back from what
was, without exaggeration, the most precarious hike I´ve been on in my
life. Physically, it was a moderate challenge. Mentally, it was
absolutely daunting. On Saturday I hiked in to this backcountry camp
and met a nice couple (Angie the American and Steve the South African)
over maté on the way there. (Ooh, and I also found my sunglasses
lense on the way over!) On Sunday, the three of us headed up to Paso
Cuadrado. The path up predates modern switch-back innovations, and
just goes straight up on loose two-steps-forward-one-step-back gravel.
After the first two hours of pushing up the loose hill, we finally
reached a slightly more horizontal area. We thought "that´s going to
be tricky on the way down." Little did we know what was coming...
...So we got to this glacier and it was confusing where the trail went
from there. We ran into some Chileans and asked them where the trail
goes. They explained "through the snow and up the granite scree to
your right" as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and we
were stupid for asking. (Scree: a sheet of coarse rock debris covering a mountain slope) So we went that way, skating our shoes
through the snow, and then scrambling up steep, loose granite for two
hours. At first, I was a little worried stepping through the rocks,
thinking it was a perfect set-up for a twisted ankle. But as we got
higher and the rocks became looser, my concerns for my ankles seemed
juvenille in light of my new fear that the whole scree might start to
slide. I was constantly worried that my feet might dislodge the rocks
that were supporting the rock that my hand was grabbing onto.
Sometimes everything beneath me would feel like rolling balls.
Sometimes I would grab on to a rock my size and it would start to move
toward me. To make matters worse, I had the song "Landslide" by
Fleetwood Mac stuck in my head. But I busied myself thinking of other
things instead of brooding over the possibilities of sliding down the
mountain, across the glacier, and into one of the many crevasses below
:-)
The three of us got to a spot near the top of the mountain and rested
on a big rock that didn´t look like it was going anywhere. I like
understatement, so I said "This is definitely one of the more
precarious hikes I´ve been on." And Angie responded, "Yes, in fact, I
can´t think of having ever done anything so dangerous in my life."
(Angie and Steve are both climbers and they had just gotten to
Argentina after a climbing trip in Rocklands, South Africa).
From our rest spot, we were very close to the top, but by then we had
realized this was maybe not the right trail, and the rest of the way
up seemed even more dangerous. And the wind was picking up, making
balance more difficult. We all really really really wanted to go to
the top to see what was on the other side, but we also realized that
it was only getting more hazardous...the scree curved over a cliff
side, for one thing. Angie said, "this is exactly how most
mountaineering accidents happen... when people realize that something
is dangerous but they´re so close that they just can´t turn back."
And as we were weighing the pros and cons of continuing on loose scree
above a sheer cliff, the snow just 20 feet to the left of us (that
also curved slightly above us) started having a small avalanche. We
moved a little further to the right so we would be out of its path in
case it got bigger. Finally, we decided that was the sign to call
enough enough. The view was breath-taking already, and as much as we
wanted to see what was on the other side of the mountain, we decided
we´d appreciate the experience much more as a whole if we all made it
back in one piece. We took a few pictures and made our careful way
back down, talking about Malcolm Gladwell, John Muir, Apartheid, and
other matters of great importance.
We later talked to a local about the trail to Paso Cuadrado, and it
turns out the Chileans gave us totally wrong directions and that we
actually got way up above the pass, which is pretty cool. When I told
him which way we went he said, "Oh that´s dangerous." From the
bottom, we could also see that if we had gone the rest of the way up
the mountain, all we would see is another big rock face, and we
wouldn´t have gotten a new perspective on the Glaciar Viedma anyway.
So it´s good we came down.
The day before going off on that hike, I did aerial fabric for like
four hours and it was soooo awesome!! There´s another girl in town
who does fabric (Lula) and as soon as word got to her that I was on
the fabrics in the gym, she dropped everything and raced over to come
practice with me, with the hope of picking up some new tricks. I
taught her "Jesus Christ Falling Over Backward" and she taught me "La
Estrella." It was fun.
Then I bought quinoa!!! Between fabric, quinoa, and the mountains, I think I´ll probably be in El Chalten for a while longer.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
It´s been so crazy here, the wind last night was 60mph with gusts much
stronger than that, and also it was raining... it was raining in giant
waves coming horizontally from the northwest. After spending most of
the day reading and talking to people and drinking mate in this
covered shelter at the campsite, I finally decided I had to go do
something and went to a bar. The wind carried me on the way there and
literally sometimes I would lift a foot and feel like I was being
lifted from the ground. The way back was super difficult because I
had to push against the wind and water. It really felt like walking
through the ocean, with waves pushing me back every few minutes.
Nevada gets really strong wind too, but usually I´m indoors for it,
and there´s usually no rain.
I think I´m in love with my tent. While other tents swayed and
snapped with the trees, mine stayed still with the rocks. So many
people woke up in the middle of the night with their tents flooded. I
was lucky, mine wasnt even damp. I´ve been learning a lot about the
proper placement of guy-lines. And I even set up a little clothesline
in the tent vestibule to dry my rain jacket and pants. It all felt
very cozy and homey... all that was missing was someone to tell me
scary stories :-)
I had trouble sleeping at first because of the noise from the wind and
rain, but then I listened to music until my battery ran out. As I was
falling asleep, I dreamed up choreography for an aerial act to
Aranita (my latest song obssession, by the talented musician Alfredo Giménez). And then guess what!! Today, someone told me that there´s
an aerial fabric in one of the local bars! I went to check it out,
but the bar was closed. Hopefully tonight though...
Also, I finally met the climbing community here!! I met some climbers
at the bar last night and they invited me to have breakfast with them
at their campsite. It turns out there´s another campground where most
of the climbers are staying, and they also have a building to hang out
in at their campground. I hung out with them all day today, listening
to their climbing stories (they´re alpine climbers.... so they climb
big mountains, not just little sport routes). The weather is supposed
to start getting good tomorrow and be nice for a few days, so a bunch
of them are going to various mountains. You know, no big deal,
they´re just gonna climb Fitz Roy or Cerro Torre.... (that was
sarcasm, because that IS a pretty big deal). I really hope some day
I´ll be that good.
It´s been raining all day and I am totally antsy. Yesterday I didnt
get to go bouldering afterall because of wind and rain.
I think tomorrow I´ll head out on a small backpacking trip. It´ll be
2 or 3 days probably. It´s a well-traveled, well-marked trail, so it
should be fairly easy. There´s also a bunch of little ¨sidetrips¨
that branch off from it, so I´m going to try to extend it as much as I
can.
stronger than that, and also it was raining... it was raining in giant
waves coming horizontally from the northwest. After spending most of
the day reading and talking to people and drinking mate in this
covered shelter at the campsite, I finally decided I had to go do
something and went to a bar. The wind carried me on the way there and
literally sometimes I would lift a foot and feel like I was being
lifted from the ground. The way back was super difficult because I
had to push against the wind and water. It really felt like walking
through the ocean, with waves pushing me back every few minutes.
Nevada gets really strong wind too, but usually I´m indoors for it,
and there´s usually no rain.
I think I´m in love with my tent. While other tents swayed and
snapped with the trees, mine stayed still with the rocks. So many
people woke up in the middle of the night with their tents flooded. I
was lucky, mine wasnt even damp. I´ve been learning a lot about the
proper placement of guy-lines. And I even set up a little clothesline
in the tent vestibule to dry my rain jacket and pants. It all felt
very cozy and homey... all that was missing was someone to tell me
scary stories :-)
I had trouble sleeping at first because of the noise from the wind and
rain, but then I listened to music until my battery ran out. As I was
falling asleep, I dreamed up choreography for an aerial act to
Aranita (my latest song obssession, by the talented musician Alfredo Giménez). And then guess what!! Today, someone told me that there´s
an aerial fabric in one of the local bars! I went to check it out,
but the bar was closed. Hopefully tonight though...
Also, I finally met the climbing community here!! I met some climbers
at the bar last night and they invited me to have breakfast with them
at their campsite. It turns out there´s another campground where most
of the climbers are staying, and they also have a building to hang out
in at their campground. I hung out with them all day today, listening
to their climbing stories (they´re alpine climbers.... so they climb
big mountains, not just little sport routes). The weather is supposed
to start getting good tomorrow and be nice for a few days, so a bunch
of them are going to various mountains. You know, no big deal,
they´re just gonna climb Fitz Roy or Cerro Torre.... (that was
sarcasm, because that IS a pretty big deal). I really hope some day
I´ll be that good.
It´s been raining all day and I am totally antsy. Yesterday I didnt
get to go bouldering afterall because of wind and rain.
I think tomorrow I´ll head out on a small backpacking trip. It´ll be
2 or 3 days probably. It´s a well-traveled, well-marked trail, so it
should be fairly easy. There´s also a bunch of little ¨sidetrips¨
that branch off from it, so I´m going to try to extend it as much as I
can.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Not in Kansas Anymore
It´s a little bit windy.
Last night I slept with earplugs, but was still awoken by the sound of wind slapping my tent against other parts of my tent. Walking is challenging; flying, on the other hand, seems closer and closer to the realm of possibilities with each footstep.
Escape to El Chalten
I got to El Chalten yesterday around noon (after a sneaky escape from my hostel... the owners did not want me to leave because, reportedly, I am the only non-Israeli they´ve had there in months. The hostel owner, Emilio, even made me a bracelet to encourage me to stay. They tried to hold me down by telling me there´s no space on the buses to El Chalten for the next few days... but I caught the first bus out).
Mountains
If you ever have a choice between going to Patagonia and doing anything else, you should probably choose to go to Patagonia. Actually, I feel like I´m cheating on Huaraz by enjoying it so much here. I think I am too quick to fall in love (with places, that is).
I went on a little hike yesterday (22km) to Lago Torre, a lake at the base of the Torre and Egger peaks. A glacier on the other side gifted two icebergs to the lake. One of them was within swimming distance, but alas it was too windy to get in. I did however manage to use a renegade block of ice as my ivy in an Adam and Eve glacial photoshoot (don´t get what I mean? use your imagination). It was rather cold.
For those who don´t know, Torre Egger is a mountain close to Mount Fitz Roy that is made of two sharp peaks (Torre and Egger) and is one of the world´s most iconic mountaineering challenges. A few years ago, two guys who did an attempt of Torre Egger gave a speach-slideshow for the Stanford Alpine Club and their story left me utterly shocked -- shocked by their daunting pictures, shocked by their many miraculous escapes from adversity, and overall shocked that they both came back alive. They had a good sense of humor and made the whole thing sound lighthearted, but I think they are also very shocked to be alive. After hearing their story, I knew I´d have to come see Torre Egger, and it´s amazing that now I´m here. (And because of my chaotic planning skills, when I came to El Chalten I didnt actually know that I was coming to Torre Egger... I just was told that it´s a place I should be. I was surprised when I got here and saw the mountain because I recognized it out of pictures).
Friends
Traveling alone, I stand less of a chance of being lonely and more of a chance of not having enough time for myself! I abandoned my Israeli travel buddy (because he was not awake when I left) and instantly made friends with two young French boys, Aurelien the calm and courageous, and Alexandre the slightly frazzled. They asked me to travel with them, but they´re going in a different direction from me.
Bedouins and Refugees
Ohad, an Israeli friend, told me a story about a 1000km trail he did across Israel. In the desert, he encountered a tall black man walking alone off the path. The man was obviously not a backpacker, and Ohad knew that the man could only be a bedouin or a refugee. The man approached him and spoke in broken Arabic--Arabic is close enough to Hebrew that Ohad and the man could sort of understand each other. He asked, ¨Where is Israel?¨and Ohad told him, ¨You´ve found it, you´re here.¨ The man showed Ohad a bottle of piss that he´d been recycling for some time, he hadn´t had real water in four days. His friend had died on the way several days before. Ohad set him up with some food and water and sent him in the direction of the nearest town. He thinks the man was a refugee, but who knows from where.
Rocks!!
There are some great boulders around here! I think I will go put some rocks in my tent and then go climb some other rocks.
Last night I slept with earplugs, but was still awoken by the sound of wind slapping my tent against other parts of my tent. Walking is challenging; flying, on the other hand, seems closer and closer to the realm of possibilities with each footstep.
Escape to El Chalten
I got to El Chalten yesterday around noon (after a sneaky escape from my hostel... the owners did not want me to leave because, reportedly, I am the only non-Israeli they´ve had there in months. The hostel owner, Emilio, even made me a bracelet to encourage me to stay. They tried to hold me down by telling me there´s no space on the buses to El Chalten for the next few days... but I caught the first bus out).
Mountains
If you ever have a choice between going to Patagonia and doing anything else, you should probably choose to go to Patagonia. Actually, I feel like I´m cheating on Huaraz by enjoying it so much here. I think I am too quick to fall in love (with places, that is).
I went on a little hike yesterday (22km) to Lago Torre, a lake at the base of the Torre and Egger peaks. A glacier on the other side gifted two icebergs to the lake. One of them was within swimming distance, but alas it was too windy to get in. I did however manage to use a renegade block of ice as my ivy in an Adam and Eve glacial photoshoot (don´t get what I mean? use your imagination). It was rather cold.
For those who don´t know, Torre Egger is a mountain close to Mount Fitz Roy that is made of two sharp peaks (Torre and Egger) and is one of the world´s most iconic mountaineering challenges. A few years ago, two guys who did an attempt of Torre Egger gave a speach-slideshow for the Stanford Alpine Club and their story left me utterly shocked -- shocked by their daunting pictures, shocked by their many miraculous escapes from adversity, and overall shocked that they both came back alive. They had a good sense of humor and made the whole thing sound lighthearted, but I think they are also very shocked to be alive. After hearing their story, I knew I´d have to come see Torre Egger, and it´s amazing that now I´m here. (And because of my chaotic planning skills, when I came to El Chalten I didnt actually know that I was coming to Torre Egger... I just was told that it´s a place I should be. I was surprised when I got here and saw the mountain because I recognized it out of pictures).
Friends
Traveling alone, I stand less of a chance of being lonely and more of a chance of not having enough time for myself! I abandoned my Israeli travel buddy (because he was not awake when I left) and instantly made friends with two young French boys, Aurelien the calm and courageous, and Alexandre the slightly frazzled. They asked me to travel with them, but they´re going in a different direction from me.
Bedouins and Refugees
Ohad, an Israeli friend, told me a story about a 1000km trail he did across Israel. In the desert, he encountered a tall black man walking alone off the path. The man was obviously not a backpacker, and Ohad knew that the man could only be a bedouin or a refugee. The man approached him and spoke in broken Arabic--Arabic is close enough to Hebrew that Ohad and the man could sort of understand each other. He asked, ¨Where is Israel?¨and Ohad told him, ¨You´ve found it, you´re here.¨ The man showed Ohad a bottle of piss that he´d been recycling for some time, he hadn´t had real water in four days. His friend had died on the way several days before. Ohad set him up with some food and water and sent him in the direction of the nearest town. He thinks the man was a refugee, but who knows from where.
Rocks!!
There are some great boulders around here! I think I will go put some rocks in my tent and then go climb some other rocks.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Happy Birthday Lago Argentina
Last night (this morning?) I met my new favorite subculture: break dancers! Justine and Aly and I made friends with a nice girl in Buenos Aires named Belen and after taking us to an art show, she (by some mysterious means) got us free VIP passes at this hip hop club that otherwise had a super long line to get in. After an hour watching people spin on their heads and bounce on their hands, I realized it was a damn good thing I already had a plane ticket out of Buenos Aires, or I might never leave the hip hop club. It turns out that I, too, have some break dancing kicks (but no spins yet). And Justine and I can definitely get a circle to form around us when we´re dancing together. Does SF have a hip hop scene? I need to work on my break dancing!
From the club, I got a cab to the apartment, ran in to get my bag, then took the cab to the airport... still eager for action and fancying more dancing. I made a couple friends in the airport and now I have a temporary travel buddy (but I forget his name... it´s an Israeli name). We arrived in El Calafate, and my temporary travel buddy and I went on the search for hostels, but it turns out that a nine-day-long birthday party for the lake, Lago Argentina, just started today so there was little space. We did get beds in an Israeli hostel, which is quite cheap compared to everywhere else, but all the signs are written in hebrew.
The airport landing strip goes just next to Lago Argentina (happy birthday Lago Argentina! ...how does a lake get a birthday?) and landing is a surreal experience. It feels something like landing in the black rock desert, but next to a sapphire blue lake. And the mountains surrounding here are made of shapes that I didn´t know mountains could be made of. Everything that isn´t lake or jagged mountain kind of looks like Nevada -- lots of sage brush.
El Calafate is a town that exists only because of mountain tourism. It´s kind of like being in a ski resort town. I´ll probably go over to Chalten soon (4 hrs away) because that´s closer to the mountains and it´s where the trekking starts out of.
Err... some retrospective tidbits about Buenos Aires:
Almost everyone thinks I´m from Brazil (except for a few people who thought I was Peruvian, ha ha). The girls and I visited a place that boasted it was the Argentine equivalent to the FBI. An ¨FBI agent¨ (for lack of a more accurate word) gave us a tour and he kept thinking I was porteña (aka from Buenos Aires) so he kept asking me to back him up with info about the city to tell Aly and Justine, and then he thought I was daft for not knowing anything. Then later he told me ¨me gustaria verte peinada¨ (I would like to see you combed) and I stared down his bald spot and responded ¨me gustaria verte con pelo¨ (I would like to see you with hair).
BA is big, but easy to navigate. In all, I felt very comfortable there, except for the occasional water dripping on my head from people´s air conditioners. That part was not so comfortable. My favorite part of the city is definitely the graffiti, although the empanadas are pretty sweet too.
Aly taught me to spin fire, which is also something I´d like to do more of.
In Cuzco several months ago, Aly, Justine, and I became friends with an Australian boy named Marty. Then lo and behold, our Australian friend Marty is passing through Buenos Aires for a few days, so we met up with him last night and lived it up like the old times.
I´m pretty tired from not sleeping last night--if I want to be awake to celebrate Lago Argentina´s birthday with all of El Calafate tonight, I probably ought to take a nap. Or... I might go see the flamingos. I can´t wait to be up in the mountains!!!
-Ana
From the club, I got a cab to the apartment, ran in to get my bag, then took the cab to the airport... still eager for action and fancying more dancing. I made a couple friends in the airport and now I have a temporary travel buddy (but I forget his name... it´s an Israeli name). We arrived in El Calafate, and my temporary travel buddy and I went on the search for hostels, but it turns out that a nine-day-long birthday party for the lake, Lago Argentina, just started today so there was little space. We did get beds in an Israeli hostel, which is quite cheap compared to everywhere else, but all the signs are written in hebrew.
The airport landing strip goes just next to Lago Argentina (happy birthday Lago Argentina! ...how does a lake get a birthday?) and landing is a surreal experience. It feels something like landing in the black rock desert, but next to a sapphire blue lake. And the mountains surrounding here are made of shapes that I didn´t know mountains could be made of. Everything that isn´t lake or jagged mountain kind of looks like Nevada -- lots of sage brush.
El Calafate is a town that exists only because of mountain tourism. It´s kind of like being in a ski resort town. I´ll probably go over to Chalten soon (4 hrs away) because that´s closer to the mountains and it´s where the trekking starts out of.
Err... some retrospective tidbits about Buenos Aires:
Almost everyone thinks I´m from Brazil (except for a few people who thought I was Peruvian, ha ha). The girls and I visited a place that boasted it was the Argentine equivalent to the FBI. An ¨FBI agent¨ (for lack of a more accurate word) gave us a tour and he kept thinking I was porteña (aka from Buenos Aires) so he kept asking me to back him up with info about the city to tell Aly and Justine, and then he thought I was daft for not knowing anything. Then later he told me ¨me gustaria verte peinada¨ (I would like to see you combed) and I stared down his bald spot and responded ¨me gustaria verte con pelo¨ (I would like to see you with hair).
BA is big, but easy to navigate. In all, I felt very comfortable there, except for the occasional water dripping on my head from people´s air conditioners. That part was not so comfortable. My favorite part of the city is definitely the graffiti, although the empanadas are pretty sweet too.
Aly taught me to spin fire, which is also something I´d like to do more of.
In Cuzco several months ago, Aly, Justine, and I became friends with an Australian boy named Marty. Then lo and behold, our Australian friend Marty is passing through Buenos Aires for a few days, so we met up with him last night and lived it up like the old times.
I´m pretty tired from not sleeping last night--if I want to be awake to celebrate Lago Argentina´s birthday with all of El Calafate tonight, I probably ought to take a nap. Or... I might go see the flamingos. I can´t wait to be up in the mountains!!!
-Ana
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Y vos?
Dear Friends Worried and Not-So-Worried,
You can breathe now, I'm safely in Buenos Aires.
Because the airline lost (misplaced?) a plane in Caracas, my travel from Reno to Buenos Aires took three days. It's all very mysterious.
I've been chillin' in the nest of my feathered friends Justine and Aly in Belgrano, a posh neighborhood in the city proper. They just moved here a week ago and have set out to live the bohemian life in Buenos Aires... music, art, and wearing feathers in their hair. We've been filling our evenings and nights and early mornings with people, food, and dancing. Coming back from the Outside Inn (a...house?) last night, I commented "Wow, the city lights are very weird here, the night sky looks BLUE right now!" And Aly said: "That would be because it's 6am now." I ate breakfast today at 5pm.
On a bus, I sat next to a guy who did not seem to notice that the girl he'd just picked up was actually a man. Satisfying.
I've been playing a game here where I try to use the word "vos" (Argentine for "tu") at every chance I get, and also trying to pronounce things the Argentine way. I think I giggle every time I say "vos" or make a "j" sound and the unsuspecting people I'm talking to don't realize that they are a part of my game. My favorite sentence was "Yo llegue ayer" (Jo jegue ajer).
I'm heading down south to El Calafate on Friday (by plane). It's like 1200 miles away or so and it's the most southern area I want to go to. Forecast: horizontal sheet rain.
Keep me updated on your lives!
Ana
You can breathe now, I'm safely in Buenos Aires.
Because the airline lost (misplaced?) a plane in Caracas, my travel from Reno to Buenos Aires took three days. It's all very mysterious.
I've been chillin' in the nest of my feathered friends Justine and Aly in Belgrano, a posh neighborhood in the city proper. They just moved here a week ago and have set out to live the bohemian life in Buenos Aires... music, art, and wearing feathers in their hair. We've been filling our evenings and nights and early mornings with people, food, and dancing. Coming back from the Outside Inn (a...house?) last night, I commented "Wow, the city lights are very weird here, the night sky looks BLUE right now!" And Aly said: "That would be because it's 6am now." I ate breakfast today at 5pm.
On a bus, I sat next to a guy who did not seem to notice that the girl he'd just picked up was actually a man. Satisfying.
I've been playing a game here where I try to use the word "vos" (Argentine for "tu") at every chance I get, and also trying to pronounce things the Argentine way. I think I giggle every time I say "vos" or make a "j" sound and the unsuspecting people I'm talking to don't realize that they are a part of my game. My favorite sentence was "Yo llegue ayer" (Jo jegue ajer).
I'm heading down south to El Calafate on Friday (by plane). It's like 1200 miles away or so and it's the most southern area I want to go to. Forecast: horizontal sheet rain.
Keep me updated on your lives!
Ana
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Oh why hello there
Hi guys! I just wanted to send out a final hello before Ana takes charge of the blog for her travels.
I haven't written in quiiiiite some time, and I hope I didn't leave anyone thinking I'd succumbed to altitude sickness or a cursed temple. In fact, I had an absolutely amazing time and grew to love the chill air and guiding winds of the Andes.
Anyway, thank you for your support along the way, and if you'd like to follow my current adventure (departing for Buenos Aires, Argentina TOMORROW!!!!), check out http://itchybones.shutterfly.com. Allie [steadfast rockin' companion who romped around Cuzco with Ana and I] and I are planning on making a LOT of art in Argentina, and we'd love to share it with you! If you'd like to contact me, justinemassey@gmail.com is your best bet, or through the site!
Much love,
Justine
I haven't written in quiiiiite some time, and I hope I didn't leave anyone thinking I'd succumbed to altitude sickness or a cursed temple. In fact, I had an absolutely amazing time and grew to love the chill air and guiding winds of the Andes.
Anyway, thank you for your support along the way, and if you'd like to follow my current adventure (departing for Buenos Aires, Argentina TOMORROW!!!!), check out http://itchybones.shutterfly.com. Allie [steadfast rockin' companion who romped around Cuzco with Ana and I] and I are planning on making a LOT of art in Argentina, and we'd love to share it with you! If you'd like to contact me, justinemassey@gmail.com is your best bet, or through the site!
Much love,
Justine
Sunday, September 5, 2010
La Vida Cusqueña -- and then there were four.
When my German friend Lisa told me about Cusco, she told me that "the people are all very cute, they are very tiny." She did not warn me about all the crazy dogs. (Oh NO, another DOG blogpost!)
But before I jump into dog stories, I will mention that Justine and I went down to Puno to pick up Justine´s friend Ali. Ali met an Australian named Marty on the bus and now the four of us are all travelling together, splitting a two-person hotel room.
The dogs start here: Because I wake up hours earlier than the rest of my companions, I set out for a day on my own yesterday to explore Cusco. I was walking to a place where someone had told me I might be able to encounter Rock Climbing when a ferocious puma jumped out at me from a doorway. Oh wait, this huge, snarling, muscular creature is not a puma, but a pit bull. Now, from having seen a few dog fights in this country, I have learned to discern the dog-noises a dog makes when it wants to say "I´m mean, keep away from me" from the heathen-noises a dog makes when it is about to lunge, bite, tear skin, and terminate. This particular pit bull was making the guardian-of-death variety of noises, and as such I figured I should probably get a rock to throw (and normally I throw just to scare, but this time I was thinking I might have to aim a little better). And so about half a second after it jumped out of the doorway, I stepped back and my eyes frantically began the search for a rock, of which there were none. About a half second after that, the pit bull lunged at me, teeth bared. With dog-fending reflexes I did not know I possessed, I whipped the dog with my sweater (which I had thankfully just taken off a minute ago) and made a deep guttural sound that I also did not know I possessed. Maybe the zipper thwacked the dog on the nose because it retreated into its doorway and left me alone after that, but it was the scariest dog encounter I had ever had up to that point in my life. Little did I know that an even scarier one was soon to follow.
Instead of going Rock Climbing, I ended up doing Vinyasa Yoga. After Yoga, I thought I might do some Aerial Fabric. And so, I asked the first person I encountered on the street if he might know of a place I can do Aerial Fabric. And by golly, he had a friend who did! But the friend didn´t answer the phone. So instead the man and I had lunch together, he told me about how I can improve the efficiency of my walking, and we went up to the Temple of the Moon. Night caught us and we walked back from the Temple of the Moon along a dark road. Suddenly, three very large, very angry dogs started barking at us and slowly closing in. We quickly searched the ground for rocks, and grabbed as many of the biggest ones we could (most the size of baseballs). I keep my water bottle in a water-bottle carrier that goes around my shoulder. In this case, I detached it from my shoulder and used my waterbottle as a sort of mace or chain or nunchuck. Meanwhile, more dogs closed in. We walked along the side of the road for a good 5 minutes like this, navigating what must have been two dozen vicious stray dogs that were hunting us. Every time a dog would lunge at us (which happened several times), my companian would throw a rock and I would swing my waterbottle in heavy circles. He advised me to keep my backpack just on one shoulder, so if a dog goes in for the bite, the last defense is to drop the backpack in front of where he is biting so he bites the backpack instead. I am currently very thankful for my waterbottle for making such an awesome weapon, because I suck at throwing rocks. Also, I am now an expert dog-fighter. Expert.
(The next day, we walked through a sort of alpaca field and he handed me a stick. "Why are you handing me this stick?" "I don´t know if there are dogs here, but if they are, they are farm dogs. Farm dogs don´t respond to rocks." "What if they´re rottweilers?" "Let´s hope there are no rottweilers.")
So if you come visit Cusco (which, by the way, is nowhere near as cool as Huaraz, by any measure), beware of dogs.
-A
But before I jump into dog stories, I will mention that Justine and I went down to Puno to pick up Justine´s friend Ali. Ali met an Australian named Marty on the bus and now the four of us are all travelling together, splitting a two-person hotel room.
The dogs start here: Because I wake up hours earlier than the rest of my companions, I set out for a day on my own yesterday to explore Cusco. I was walking to a place where someone had told me I might be able to encounter Rock Climbing when a ferocious puma jumped out at me from a doorway. Oh wait, this huge, snarling, muscular creature is not a puma, but a pit bull. Now, from having seen a few dog fights in this country, I have learned to discern the dog-noises a dog makes when it wants to say "I´m mean, keep away from me" from the heathen-noises a dog makes when it is about to lunge, bite, tear skin, and terminate. This particular pit bull was making the guardian-of-death variety of noises, and as such I figured I should probably get a rock to throw (and normally I throw just to scare, but this time I was thinking I might have to aim a little better). And so about half a second after it jumped out of the doorway, I stepped back and my eyes frantically began the search for a rock, of which there were none. About a half second after that, the pit bull lunged at me, teeth bared. With dog-fending reflexes I did not know I possessed, I whipped the dog with my sweater (which I had thankfully just taken off a minute ago) and made a deep guttural sound that I also did not know I possessed. Maybe the zipper thwacked the dog on the nose because it retreated into its doorway and left me alone after that, but it was the scariest dog encounter I had ever had up to that point in my life. Little did I know that an even scarier one was soon to follow.
Instead of going Rock Climbing, I ended up doing Vinyasa Yoga. After Yoga, I thought I might do some Aerial Fabric. And so, I asked the first person I encountered on the street if he might know of a place I can do Aerial Fabric. And by golly, he had a friend who did! But the friend didn´t answer the phone. So instead the man and I had lunch together, he told me about how I can improve the efficiency of my walking, and we went up to the Temple of the Moon. Night caught us and we walked back from the Temple of the Moon along a dark road. Suddenly, three very large, very angry dogs started barking at us and slowly closing in. We quickly searched the ground for rocks, and grabbed as many of the biggest ones we could (most the size of baseballs). I keep my water bottle in a water-bottle carrier that goes around my shoulder. In this case, I detached it from my shoulder and used my waterbottle as a sort of mace or chain or nunchuck. Meanwhile, more dogs closed in. We walked along the side of the road for a good 5 minutes like this, navigating what must have been two dozen vicious stray dogs that were hunting us. Every time a dog would lunge at us (which happened several times), my companian would throw a rock and I would swing my waterbottle in heavy circles. He advised me to keep my backpack just on one shoulder, so if a dog goes in for the bite, the last defense is to drop the backpack in front of where he is biting so he bites the backpack instead. I am currently very thankful for my waterbottle for making such an awesome weapon, because I suck at throwing rocks. Also, I am now an expert dog-fighter. Expert.
(The next day, we walked through a sort of alpaca field and he handed me a stick. "Why are you handing me this stick?" "I don´t know if there are dogs here, but if they are, they are farm dogs. Farm dogs don´t respond to rocks." "What if they´re rottweilers?" "Let´s hope there are no rottweilers.")
So if you come visit Cusco (which, by the way, is nowhere near as cool as Huaraz, by any measure), beware of dogs.
-A
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