L - Typical day at customs; R - Ecuadorian Ronald McDonald
Riobamba doesn't offer much within its city limits, but on Ecuador's
L - Takin a picture of the big guy; R - Saint Peter
Avove Right - Saint Peter's toes
From the glaciers of Patagonia to the coast of Chile, ascending to the dizzying heights of the Andes, plunging into the tropical rain forest on the Equator, all before being sandwiched between two coasts within arms reach in Central America, with some friendly volcanoes for company. The craziest part? To the best of my abilities, no planes. I will be trekkin’ it, hikin’ it, bussin’ it, and lovin’ it back home. 18 countries, who knows how many months, go home. Epic.
Each Down answer must be altered before being entered, in a manner that must beI cooly lay aside the magazing and picked up "Rugor: the Dragon in Love", my eight-year-old reading level book that helps me with my Spanish. After a few minutes, the throbbing in my head dwindled away.
determined by the solver. The new words produced include two proper names. Clue
answers include seven proper names. Answers at 38A and 32D are uncommon, the
latter being British slang. The answer at 37A is a variant spelling. As always,
mental repunctuation of a clue is the key to its solution.
Unfortunately, not all my time spent in the city of Huaraz has been relaxing or enjoyable. In fact, some has been downright stressful. For my last trek, I rented a helmet, ice axe, and crampons in order to safely cross a glaciated pass. Because of the strike I mentioned, most businesses were closed, so I ended up renting from a company I wouldn't usually deal with. I was, however, only renting equipment, not relying on them for any service in the mountains, and the equipment I could inspect before paying for it. How could they rip me off?
Before paying, I asked if it would be possible to receive money back if I happened to come back before the amount of days I would be paying for. "Yeah, yeah, no problem my friend, that is possible." I should have taken a deep breath right then, and perhaps smelled that foul odor that usually lingers around portable toilets and bull pens. I wasn't planning on coming back early though, just wanted to check. So I paid S/ 230 = US$77 for 7 days rental. Not really that cheap, but you can't really put a price on safety.
You all know the trek didn't work out so well, and I came back early. I returned the equipment and asked for my money for the three days I would not be using the equipment. Blank stare.
"What money?" My overly friendly, full-of-promises friend asked.
"The money you owe me for the three days I didn't use the equipment, that you promised to return to me if I came back early. There is your equipment, here in good order on the fourth day, so I would like the S/ 100 you owe me (acutally it was S/102...but who will argue about a few soles? I'll tell you momentarily...) for the remaining three days," I replied.
Basically the answer was no, you can't have your money. I reminded them that they had said I could, and were therefore breaking our arrangement (besides, why wouldn't I just pay for a day then anyway if I couldn't have my money back if I returned early?). Knowing I was right, they then said that I was asking for a lot of money. Darn right! That is why I want it back, other than the simple principle that you owe it to me. I was told I would have to wait and talk to the owner, who would be back in 7 to 8 days from climbing Alpamayo. I unhappily explained that not only was that a ridiculous request, but that I needed to leave their country within that time period because my visa was expiring, and things would need to be resolved earlier. It was simple enough: return my money that you promised to give me, and I will leave you alone.
Then began this ridiculous game. It was too much they said. They don't earn that much. They don't have that much money. Would I take half? 70%? Could I come back tomorrow? They would have the money then. I played that game for four days, and got pretty fed up with it, especially when it became clear they had no intention of ever finding the full amount. Not only could I not believe their audacity to ask me for a discount, but even worse was their continued lying about not having money. Not only did they have the money on the simple principle that I had had the money, that I had turned it over to them in a very real from of S/230 worth of bank notes, but furthermore, groups were coming in and paying for trips that cost way more than S/100. On the last night of our encounters, I tracked down my friend renting equipment for a multiday climbing trip (read: lots of money), and then his partner coming back with a food list to buy at the market (read: also lots of money). I explained that to them. How can you have enough money to rent equipment and buy food, but not enough to return my comparitively small amount of money? That I had given to them anyway! No good answer for this.
Four days of this nightmare I endured, including waiting on the last day for an hour when my friend failed to show for our prearranged meeting in which he would have my money, for sure, without a doubt, the full amount, amen. That is when I tracked him down renting equipment, probably also hiding, in a nearby gear shop. After heated discussions, he finally gave me S/ 29 and a map valued at S/ 70 (which he tried to tell me was worth S/ 120, but I already had purchased the map, so I happened to know the value). And those 29 soles I had to argue up from 20, then 25, then 27, and finally 29 (remember that bit about arguing over 2 soles?), with his mother, father, and another business partner asking me to accept a lower fee, that it was just a lunch value that I could pay for, etc. I told them I waited four days, ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner, payed for a hotel room, and couldn't do anything else but come argue with them everyday, unable to make any plans of my own, and if they would like that bill as well, I would be happy to give it to them, as long as we were still on friendly enough terms to be buying each other lunches.
Pulling teeth would be an apt expression for that experience, and I wasn't even the only one with problems that night. Another group who had just come back from a trip wanted a refund for something, and this poor Spanish guy, while witnessing all this drama, was set to go on a climb the next day. He had requested a guide with specific qualifications, was told he would get one, but when he verified the qualifications with the local agency, they told him his guide was not registered. So he was trying to get a qualified guide for his trip on the following day. There should be a plethora of complaints registered against the company in the next week or two.
I guess I can laugh about it now, but meeting with them was not enjoyable, especially when told bald faced lies by people whose word means a little less than nothing. However, I should note here that I love the family who runs my hostel; they have been absolutely amazing and made my stay in Huaraz even that much more enjoyable. People like this can be found throughout Peru as well, but, unfortunately, so can the others. So watch yourselves closely if you are ever down here, because despite being a seasoned traveler, you might still find yourself on the losing end of a bad deal.
warmed up for breakfast. At one end of the lake a good reflection of the fiery mountains reflected in the water, and as I tried to capture the moment with my camera, a hungry donkey was busy getting into my oatmeal. Sprinting back to camp (at 13,000 feet no less) I shooed the donkey away, beating the stupid arriero in getting there, though he had about a 700 foot head start and had started walking over to my camp before I even did. I thanked him for his urgency. Luckily the donkey hadn’t eaten much out of my bowl, so I just scraped off the top layer, boiled the rest of the oatmeal for a few minutes, and then ate it. I know what you are thinking…I have now, basically, made out with a donkey.
I covered a lot of terrain this day and it brought absolutely phenomenal views, and was my favorite section of the trip. I took a little done high route, enjoying the spectacular scenery in isolation. I spoke in earlier blogs about the views that surround you; views you can’t possibly capture with photos or videos but can only live then and there in that place and in that moment. This was one of those places.

named after Butcher’s Peak. Probably a good story there, but don’t know it), which apart from the view (sunset to right) was a terrible camp. No one else was there I noticed, attesting to the only flat ground being available far from the muddy, murky, scungy water with little red, just barely-visible swimmers in it that you had to cook with. I hoped that 10 minutes of boiling killed those little buggers, and was thankful they were camouflaged in the red pasta sauce as I ate. Yummy.
turned out there was a pretty well defined track up most of the way, though you had to find your own way here and there. The views were awesome as you passed by the beautiful, towering Trapecio. Over the pass unamed green glacier lakes sat snuggly in a rocky canyon under some cool peaks of the Puscanturpa range. Camp was at a high 14,800 ft for the night, and it was absolutely frigid! Every night was cold, but this night felt like I was in the Arctic, not the Andes. I awoke every hour or two throughout the night due to the chill, and it ended up wearing down my mentality.






to be my next pass and it looked like a tough one to get up. One would have to weave around cliffs and a large moraine and then traverse back over what looked like a steep scree slope. Difficult, but doable. (Left - View down pass then up valley to the next) I started down and ended up picking the wrong way. I didn’t mention it, but this is not a normal pass to do. Although a track leads up, it is very faint in parts on the descent. Following a traversing cut on a scree slope, I suddenly found myself on
very, very steep, loose rocky slopes that eventually plunged over sheer cliffs (see right). In Spanish, this is called finding yourself in “mierda.” The “trail” had disappeared, and it was clearly not the route down. I backtracked up the steep hill to where I was last on the trail, then opted left, and made the correct, yet still steep, descent into the valley. My legs tired, knees aching, and along with the night before, I decided I wasn’t heading up valley to do the next pass. That is actually one of my biggest regrets now, as I think the views would have been unreal and well worth the hardships endured. Oh well. Next time. =)
a murdered couple killed nearly 5 years ago at a higher camp (there was a cross erected in memory of them farther up valley that I passed the next day). They didn’t know why (nor could I find much info online now that I am back), only minor details about the crime, but they did happen to point out that the couple was all alone at the camp with their one tent…sort of like me (camp to right). After some other topics of discussion, they wished me a pleasant night. Yeah, it would be pleasant after that little story, wouldn’t it? Now I am going to sit up all night, sleeping bagged draped over my head, my fearsome swiss army knife blade open and at the ready, starteled by every real and imaginary sound I hear. Pleasant indeed. I did manage some sleep, but to say that I wasn’t a little anxious after that story would be a lie. I woke up the next morning. I was happy about that.





and such. You all just had 12 days of that, plus I don’t want to write it. I will give you the basics, and any anecdotes worth being shared. I went solo for 8 days, doing the basic circuit most days, but cutting across some more difficult passes other days to catch some better views and get away from the crowds. The views were the best part of all, so here are the picture links:
Up at 3:30 in the morning, I was departing Huaraz by 5:00 am, arriving in Chiquian at 8:00, departing at 9:15, arriving in Llámac at 10:45, and finally on the trail at 11:00. That sequence sucked.
beautiful sight and sound to behold, it was also a reminder of the dramatic retreat of glaciers in the region. Whole mountains have been melted out, baring nothing but rock when 50 years ago, they were completely covered in ice and snow.
Descent: 1,800 ft
