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