Day 12 -- The Beginning of an Epic Adventure

Finally my body is healthy enough for our Machu Picchu Trek.  We were up at 6:30, and after only a spec of toast each, both Fish and myself felt energized enough to run to Machu Picchu from Cusco.  We arrived at the tour agency at 7:20 a.m., ten minutes before instructed, so we weren´t overly alarmed when there was no one to greet us.  However, when 7:45 rolled around and we were still sitting on the cobble-stone steps outside, all by our lonesome, panic began to set in for the both of us.  We tried calling but unfortunately we were the only ones who could hear the hum of the telephone buzz.  As 8:00 o´clock rolled up, one of our company´s representatives came sprinting into the picture as if she´d been competing for a gold medal in the Beijing Olympic Marathon.  She apologized and paid a cab to take us to the rendezvous point.

We were picked up by an empty bus, except for a lone Canadian named Athena.  She was overly talkative and friendly, and I immediately began to question what we´d gotten ourselves into.  We then met up with another van which was filled with seven new strangers.  We all crammed into our van like sardines, and when the bikes had been loaded on the roof, we were finally off to start our first true adventure of this trip!

I casually said, in my best Richard Attenborough voice, "Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Jurassic Park."

We traveled by bus for about 2.5 hours until we reached the town of Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley.  For everyone else on the bus, most of these first 2.5 hours were spent getting to know one another and listening to Athena the Canadian Motor-Mouth.  For me, however, these 2.5 hours were spent listening to my I-Pod and inhaling the beautiful scenery that we were soon to be a part of.  When we stopped for coffee in Ollantaytambo, I was able to gaze in amazement, from afar, at some of the most in-tact, remaining Incan ruins.  The structure of their living quarters was absolutely unbelievable.  Even from afar I was able to see the stability with which their homes, storage facilities, and water ways were built upon.  Even though we spent less than half an hour in Ollantaytambo, the ruins there already had me rip-roaring ready for what was to come at Machu Picchu.

Sean and I enjoyed our coffee with Simon and Joanne.  Both Simon and Jo, as she likes to be called, are Med students from Darwin, Australia, so we had no trouble getting the ball rolling.  I quickly recalled the 3 nights that I spent in a campervan right off Darwin´s main street in a park facing the ocean.  Simon and Jo immediately knew what I was talking about and grew quite excited that I had spent some time in their home town.  This got the conversation rolling and we didn´t need any help from there.  Simon and Jo are both typical Australians right down to the core -- they are sweet and friendly (almost, but not quite, to a fault), intersting and adventurous, and most importantly, thoughtful and fun.  They are both as genuine of people as you can find, and I was immediately relieved after talking to both of them.  This trip was going to be life-changing and we were going to share it with some absolutely incredible people!

After our coffee, we all crammed back into the van and started ascending the Andes mountains which we would soon be descending on mountain bikes.  After probably an hour of driving straight uphill, Athena said, "I wonder how high we are?" which I instantaneously retorted, in pure Thurmanian sarcasm, "Oh, about 27,000 feet."  She turned around, looking aghast, and said in an astonished tone, "Really?  That seems really high."  I could tell that she was being serious and I immediately felt a wave of empathy for the poor girl.  "No," I said.  "We´re probably at about 14,000 feet.  27,000 feet is outrageously high.  The tallest mountain in the world is approximately 29,764 feet."  She replied, "Is that in Russia?"  ---------        BADA BING!!!!    It was at this very instant that I knew I was in for four of the best days of my whole entire life.

Our ascent ended shortly after the comedic minute with Athena, and I quickly realized that we were above the clouds.  The temperature was frigid at best, probably around 30 degrees Fahrenheit, and the sky was beginning to spit sleet-sticks about the size of a normal piece of Orbitz gum -- much like the final third of a normal human pinky.  I put on a long sleeve shirt, then my alpaca sweater (bought at REI -- a brilliant purchase -- comes with my highest recommendations), followed by my bike helmet and biking gloves.  I was ready to rumble!  After Leo (our guide) okayed all of our bikes, we took a group photo and started biking down the Andes, through the salivating clouds.  Most of this bike ride was extremely wet and cold, but the Jurassic-Park-like scenery was more than worth the physical misery.  The scariest part of the ride had nothing at all to do with our bikes, which barely had working breaks or gears.  Because of the rain, rock slides had started to materialize all over the mountain.  At one point, I was riding directly behind Jo when a soft-ball-sized rock came plunging down the mountain and bounced off her spokes.  I think this was far worse for my psyche in comparison to hers, because she continued pedalling like Mary Poppins while I was freaking out!  Crazy thoughts were racing through my head, like -- how am I supposed to escape a mother-fu#*ing boulder?!

The landslides behind us, I dropped the best line of the whole day.  I had been at the very back of the group and Leo had stopped everyone for a group photo.  The different climates were amazing as we moved from the high alpine terrain down the mountain into thick, mountainside jungles.  The point that Leo had stopped us for the group photo was looking out over the dense, mountainside jungle consumed at the top by the clouds and fog.  As I passed the group, slowly coming to a stop for the picture, you could hear birds squawking in the background and I casually said, in my best Richard Attenborough voice, "Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Jurassic Park."  This was a staggeringly poignant moment as 2/3rds of the group burst into laughter.  It was one of those had-to-be-there moments, but man was it epic.

The bike ride finished about 20 minutes later and we were greeted at the small shack by wild dogs, roosters, and three playful niños.  This was the perfect place to look back up into the Jurassic Park backdrop, and I quickly started snapping photos like I was getting paid for it.  The niños were fascinated by my camera.  They posed for numerous pictures and then one of them asked me if he could take a picture.  I handed my camera over and this little boy was instantaneously granted full admittance to DisneyLand.  He snapped photos of his friends, of me, of himself, of the stray dogs, the van, the mountainside, and even the sky.  He was happy as a clam -- there was no mistaking it in his ear-to-ear smile and his new found swagger.  For me, this was an extremely rewarding moment -- one that I´ll have documented forever on my Canon and in my mind.

We were supposed to bike all the way to Santa Maria but the rain had made the road a bit too muddy, so we drove the final hour and a quarter in the van.  We arrived in Santa Maria at about 5:15 p.m. and were told dinner would not be served until 7:00 p.m.  The group was split up by room assignments.  Sean and I were paired with two cousins -- Colin, who goes by Cole, is 27 and from Brisbane, Australia.  It´s fair to say that within seconds of finding this out, the three of us became quite close.  (For those of you who don´t know, both Sean and I spent a semester of college studying abroad at the University of Queensland in Brisbane, Australia, and thus, spent 6 months living there.)  Cole´s cousin is Big Al, a 38 year old kid-at-heart from Wales.  He reminds me of my Uncle Dave -- always cheerful and playful, especially with the ladies, and he never misses an opportunity to tell a joke.  Quite a joke he tells, too, by the way.  So, the four of us spent the next hour and forty minutes gnawing on our arms and getting to know one another.  It was clear from the start that we´d have no trouble getting along, and we didn´t.  Big Al and Cole were the best roommates Sean and I could have ever hoped for on a tour like that, and even after dinner, we laughed the night away together in our stuffy hostel room.

Partly adrenaline from Machu Picchu Trek Day 1, and partly from Big Al´s thunderous farts, we barely slept all night.  It was the perfect beginning!

Cheers!

TDC