Get back on the horse

About a year ago I backpacked this trail called Uma Palka. The weekend before I'd scouted the trail, and in the sunshine it was a great trip. However, that next weekend it rained for three days... even snowed 3-4 inches one night, and that trip has been forever labeled "The Death March." I won't go into many details, but lets just say that it is a good title for that weekend.


This last weekend I did it again. I faced my fear of this trail and took Niko (new intern) and five shoe shiners with me. Now, before I get into this story too much, let me explain that I love this trail. I'm not sure if it is the majestic views, adventurous challenge or a combination of the both, but something draws me to Uma Palka.

It rained again. All three days. So that definitely made me question why I was out on the trail instead of in warm, dry La Paz. Every squishy, soaked step that question entered my mind. But the rain never ends up being our biggest enemy. It is the fog that always reeks havoc on these trips. It drops down and hugs you , and you can no longer navigate by the towering mountains or deep valleys. Instead your visibility decreases to sometimes just a couple of meters, and that is when you get lost.

We got lost three times last weekend. In the first hour, I got completely turned around and if it wasn't for Dario's instincts, we might still be roaming around on top of the initial 16,000 foot summit looking for the saddle to take us over the mountain and into the the warmer (still wet) valley. The other two times I guess I wouldn't say we were lost. We knew where we were on the map, but we thought we were somewhere else, and we weren't quite sure how we'd ended up where we did.

I learned a lot this weekend. The tail, even when it is sunny, is challenging because of all the ups and downs. I wish I had some sort of statistic to give you about how many meters we ascended and descended, but lets just say that it was a monstrous amount. Bordering on ludicrous. So when it is raining and foggy, and you are not certain if the steps you are taking are going to get you where you want to go, that becomes a lesson.

I don't mind hiking. In fact I rather enjoy it. Even with 25 kilos on my back. But as soon as I recognize that each step I take might not be taking me where I'm going, I absolutely hate it. It reminds me of what C.S. Lewis once said:

"We all want progress. But progress means getting nearer to the place where you want to be. And if you have taken a wrong turning, then to go forward does not get you any nearer. If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case the man who turn back soonest is the most progressive man."

At one point during our adventure we came to a lake. It was a good sign, because we knew it was a man-made reservoir, and so if we could make it to the dam on the opposite side, then there was sure to be a trail or road back to civilization (as assumption that proved to be true... in fact using this logic we stumbled upon what is now one of my favorite trails in the world!). However, from the far side of the lake we had to figure out which way to go around. From our viewpoint we could not see the whole lake. We were also concerned about cliffs that ran right into the water: dead ends where we could not continue our progress. We evaluated the situations and came to a group consensus to head to the left. We should have gone right.

So on our journey to the left we came to a couple tough spots. Places that required teamwork to pass and were not always the safest option (we'll just say it that way... I know my Mom is reading). It was a risk. I wasn't sure how it would end up. I began to think in terms of survival. But I loved it. It was an adventure, and without these elements, it wouldn't have been the memory or classroom that it was.

The guys loved it. They commented that it was like no other trek they'd been on. We had to come together as a team to problem solve. Our decisions did not have certain outcomes. We had to dare and risk. And from inside all of us, something grew and maybe in some cases was set free.

Thursday I start a book study with the guys. We are going to look into what it means to be a Christian man. Not a nice guy, but a risk-taking warrior that sacrifices to rescue what God has deemed beautiful. I think this trip was a great introduction.