Whoops, it's been a while since I've blogged. My apologies to those of you who just can't get enough of this. Anyway, I have quite an interesting story to tell, so perhaps that will make up for my recent lack of activity. Though, as much as I hate to say it, I will once again have to post photo-less because I forgot to charge my camera before I left for the weekend! Stupid. I won't make any promises, in case they turn up empty again, but I will try really hard to mooch some lovely photos from my lovely friends.
So anyway, this past weekend, a ProWorld crew of 17 (the Princeton group, some volunteers, and most of the staff) loaded up the gear and got up bright and early on Saturday morning to tackle Pitusiray, a mountain near Calca. Legend has it that around this time each year, and only this time, it is possible to discern the shape of a puma from the shadow the mountain casts on the ground. In addition, the top of the mountain is a beautiful spot to camp, complete with a peaceful laguna for swimming. In hopes of realizing these attractions, our party gathered at the Urubamba terminal bright and early on Saturday morning, many of us (me included) quaking slightly at the thought of the five to six hour hike ahead.
As a pretty inexperienced hiker, I had little idea of what to expect. But I was surprised that though the hike was certainly very difficult, it was actually humanly possible. After seven exhausting uphill hours, we finally caught sight of what wasn't just a mirage. The laguna was absolutely gorgeous. A few of my brave constituents even stripped down for a quick swim! Eventually, we settled down, set up camp, and assigned ourselves to tents. We enjoyed a freshly-cooked meal of pasta and rocoto sauce as we watched the sunset from an altitude of 4200 meters. I can honestly say that I've never been that high in my entire life.
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| Bringin' back the socks and sandals |
It got dark quickly, as it usually does in Peru, and we settled into our respective tents. I was sharing with the three other Princeton chicas. Slowly, as we drifted into a pseudo-sleep, the pitter-patter on top of the tent strengthened. We didn't think much of it, considering our tent was protected by a rain layer. Little by little, however, the side of the tent where I was sleeping got wetter and wetter, and I felt the occasional droplet of water on my head. Still, I thought nothing of it, and continued trying to sleep. Not too long after, my "sleep" was cut short as I realized I was surrounded by fabric. As I cried out in confusion, a wave of shock swept over the four of us as we discovered that our tent had collapsed! But that's not all: when Eleanor, our resident hiking expert, opened the tent flap to try to repair the damage, she called out "it's snowing!" And sure enough, there were a few centimeters of snow covering everything in sight. Snow?! We had thought we'd planned for everything.
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| The laguna |
Before long, most of the group had woken up, and we (after determining our tent beyond repair) quickly redistributed to the other tents, grateful for the body heat generated by even more cramped conditions. To be honest, it was a long miserable night of never-ending snowfall, teasingly strong wind, and a threatening thunderclap and lightening combo. But the view(s) in the morning made everything worth it. As we made our way down the mountain, we could see snow-capped moutains above and the pueblo of Calca down below. And two and a half somewhat painful hours later, we were back on the ground again.
Though my first camping night ever wasn't exactly fine and dandy, I would do it again. If you looked at the pictures, you probably know why.
Chao.
Photo credits: Alexandra Junn
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