Altitude Sickness is like AIDS........Its For Real

Hello lovers!

So I have recently returned to sea level to spend the next couple weeks in a picturesque little beach town getting super aquainted with my two new best friends, a surf board and a hammock. My arrival here has definitely not come without my share of adventures while visiting my man lover in the mountains. The following is an account of just one of those adventures.

Lake 69. Yes, that is the name of the lake. 69. Naturally I must go there. Nevermind the stories of its beauty or the fantastic panoramic views the trek promised. I had already decided we would make the journey as soon as I heard the name of the lake.

This would not be a multiday trek through dangerous territory, as it can be hiked in a days time, (provided you start early enough). So its not the most difficult trip ever, but it also refuses to be an easy one. Tucked into the Peruvian mountains, just a few peaks past Peru´s tallest mountain, (which sits at a dizzying 22,000+ feet), Lake 69 hangs out right at the snow line, waiting for anyone crazy enough to brave a 5:00 AM alarm.

Brave we were. After catching 2 combis, (cheap mini buses reserved for the poor and unbathed) a taxi, and a few hours of severely bumpy roads we were ready to begin our hike. We worked out a deal with the taxi driver, (who happened to be a woman. feel free to pass judgement right now as I did not at the time, but later regretted), and we agreed to give her half the money before we took off and she would get the last half if she was there to pick us up at the predetermined time to take us back out of the mountains.

Off we set through a fantastic maze along a river in a small valley with snowy mountain tops peering down at us from all sides. Soon we reached what could have been mistaken as a dead end as cliffs rose up in all directions except for the one we had come from. Adorning these massive walls were a plethora of waterfalls, cascading down the rock faces. Soon we found a steep trail that resulted in rapid elevation gain. Finally we reached a false summit and trekked another half mile before making our final ascent to Lake 69. Beautiful it was. But unfortunately here is where trouble arose.

Beginning as just a feeling of a light head and weakness, my plans for a naked lake jump were soon dashed as the real sickness set in. Here is what happens when you get altitude sickness at 15,000 feet, (twice what I am used to when I got snowboarding back home), you puke. A ton. Even if there is nothing left to vomit, you keep right on heaving. The pukes then team up with the worst headache youve ever had. But then they get lonely and invite Mr. Juicey Squirts to get in on the fun to make it a real party. So this trifecta of sickness is wreaking havoc on your body, putting you in no mood to move an inch. The problem with that is, the only way to cure altitude sickness is to decrease your elevation. I had a real catch 22 on my paws.

After realizing that an air lift was probably out of the question, I realized the severity of my situation and my only option was to drag myself back down that mountain. The 1/2 mile ¨hike¨ back to where I could start losing some serious elevation was a real mess as I continued puking, clutching my throbing head, and stopping every so often to oblige Señor Squirts.

Finally I began to feel better as I went down and completed the hike to the rather mellow tune of an achy bodieded, light headed jaunt. I had the forsight to send Kyle ahead to make sure he caught our ride at the right time so she didnt leave without us since I was a bit of a slug. After a rain soaked trek back I made it to the road to find Kyle and no freakin taxi!

Although he made it back in plenty of time, she had bailed. Right then it was decided that there would be no more getting in cars with a woman at the healm for the remainder of my trip. With no phone, dwindling water, darkness soon to set in, and not another outpost for 14 km, we did the only thing we could do, and started walking. With plans to flag down the first vehicle that passed on the rather deserted mountain road, we were mildly worried, to say the least.

Luckily it was not 20 min before a truck, headed in the right direction, came hauling towards us. We flagged them down and the 3 dudes inside happily picked us up. Hitchhiking in rural South America? Why not? When was the last time that ended poorly?

Despite furious speeds down tiny/crappy mtn roads, and our certainty that these men were transporting a decent amount of illegal drugs, we arrived safely in the next town, rape free.

So, I live to blog again. More later as I´m sure I´ve kept you long enough.

Much love

Phase 1 Complete

So my last day in Lima is fast approaching. Friday I board a bus and head north, into the mountains. In Huaraz I will be reunited with my sexy lover, Kyle Blair, who is there with the Peace Corps. Before I leave Lima, I feel it's only fair that I share a few pictures with you of things I've seen, places I've been, or whatever I deemed necessary to pull my camera out for. Now, I could also write about these pictures, but it would honestly be boring to the point that I wouldn't even want to proof read it. So I won't burden you with those details. Instead just gaze upon these few photos and let your imagination fill in the blanks.

What I will tell you about, which is hopefully at least mildly more entertaining, is a few of the random people I've met while in Lima. First there was a couple I hung out with several times who were young Swiss doctors. They were out touring the world before beginning their efforts to save it.

Then there was this guy I met from Sweden while I was wondering around a park. This park was several neighborhoods and a handful of miles away from the hostel I was staying at. Anyway, we talked for a while, he was a cool guy, and I went on my way. Later that night while I'm making dinner at my hostel, guess who sits down at the table. Same guy! No, he didn't creeper stalk me all the way back. Even though we met miles away, we were both staying at the same place.

Next I met a Chinese guy, alex, who was actually from Canada on his way to a town a couple hours south of Lima for a water purification project. He had ridden his motorcycle all the way from canada to Guatemala where his bike burst into flames and burned up. Turns out that the cheapest thing to do was fly back to Canada, buy a new motorcycle and start over again. The day after I met him, he was out on his bike when a taxi pulled out in front of him, slammed on their brakes, and Alex slammed right into them, flew over his handlebars, through the taxis back window and into their back seat. He was fine but the same couldn't be said for his bike. And he was so close to his destination......

And the last guy worthy of making it into my blog should actually be writing a book on his travels. Steve is an Australian who is on the ultimate party world tour. He started in brazil for the week long party known only as Carnival. Shortly he will be arriving in Cancun, Mexico to experience the American holiday called spring break. Then after a long surf break, he jets over to Spain for the running of the bulls. Then if everything goes well, he gets to Germany just in time for octoberfest. So after many months of partying, Steve will return home. His liver, however, will most likely not make it back.

Well, those are the notables for now. I've enjoyed my time in Lima, even if 85% of it does smell like a homeless fish in tattered jean shorts and a greasy fedora, went on a pissing spree. Now I shall find out not only what northern Peru has to offer, but I also plan on discovering which poorly dressed, public urinating, vagabond animal it smells like.

Much love

Early mistakes

So for the first few days of this trip I've been in vacation mode. Not waking up until 10:30, ( for now I will attribute the late rising to me being unaccustomed to the time change. Give it a week or so before we get real and call it for what it is.....laziness). Finally I drag myself downstairs for a little breakfast, then I have spot of tea while I watch a little futbol or read a book. I know what you are thinking. Sipping tea, watching soccer and reading books? What has Peru done to that dashingly good looking Mr. Tillery that we once knew? Well fear not, for I have managed to retain that sex appeal while trying a slightly different lifestyle.

Yesterday I was out for a stroll in the neighborhood when I was drawn towards quite a bit of noise. Something was goin down. Naturally, I had to investigate. The source of the ruckus was several city blocks filled with people. There was live music, vivid colors, cheering, people dressed as pirates, many others were smearing paint all over each other, and some were spraying everyone with hoses and super soakers. At first glance I assumed this to be some sort of gay pride parade. But then all the pirate stuff got me thinking that perhaps it was maybe a super awesome pirate festival. But wait, could it be a combo of the two and I had stumbled upon a huge butt pirate party? I decided this was the most logical conclusion and went with that theory until someone told me it was a local festival for the Barranco district. I liked my idea better. Either way it was pretty nutty and fun to watch.

Alas I could not simply watch for long. I decided to become part of the celebration by attempting to pick my way through the madness in an effort to get back to my hostel. I must have been seriously delusional to really believe that I could get through this sea of madness without getting smeared with paint or drenched by a trigger happy, super soaker wielding, ten year old. Indeed I had set the bar unattainably high as I was definitely introduced to my fair share of both paint and water. Luckily they relatively cancelled each other out and I escaped the masses with no permanent damage.

And to address the title of this entry, I may have already broken two of the big three no no's.
#1 Don't drink the water!
I accidentally took a couple slurps in the shower. Quickly realizing my mistake, I downed a full liter of bottled water. No adverse effects yet.
#2 Don't throw the toilet paper in the toilet!
What can I say? that's a tough habit to break.
Now you're dying to know what number three is huh? That one I have yet to break but I feel an infraction may be in the near future.
#3 Don't run around naked at night waving a fist full of money while screaming, in Spanish, "Take me to your home and teach me new things!"
Yes, it's probably best that I don't know how to say that in Spanish. Oh Google Translate......

Anyway, I must be off for there are a couple of French girls who seemed to have noticed those dashing good looks you were all so worried about.

Much love

I have infiltrated Peru!

Despite riding the smallest commercial flight known to man, being deemed a distressed passenger, and getting thoroughly confused in a Colombian airport, I have somehow made it to my hostel in Lima.

To better explain the above situations, I was forced to ride a plane for one stint of my trip that would be considered the smallest plane I've ever been on if I were not counting the dumbo ride at Disney land. My seat was both a window and an isle seat at the same time! I was able to hold a conversation at a whisper with the person in the front row and yes, my seat was in the last row. Guess what the in flight movie was. . . Are you kidding? There was no room for a TV on this thing. Want to know what the snack was? Mini pretzels. Yes I realize this normal for most flights but I enjoyed the irony in this case.

Still not sure what I did to gain the title of distressed passenger, but it did get me a high roller room at a Sheraton for the night along with free room service and other perks. Obviously it was a super rough layover. And as for the little mix up in Colombia, I almost got on the wrong flight which caused me to almost miss the one I was suppose to be on. Oops.

At any rate, once I finally got to my hostel last night I had been operating on an average of 4 hours of sleep per 24 hour period for the last week. It was that magical combination that enabled me to power through the snoring to my right and the guy sleep talking in French and finally cruise into dream land.

Tomorrow I may just venture outside the hostel and see how quickly I can find cocaine, get mugged, or if I'm feeling up to it, both. Could be a busy day.

Thanks and much love!