Into the Wild

July 18th, 2009: Waking up at 3:12am, with a puddle of saliva on the pillow next to the corner of my mouth and a hot water bottle that has chilled onto my back, I slowly rolled out of bed. Taking a 2 hour bus ride up into the Purace National Park, my friend Martha and I are on a mission…to be frugal and see the park without paying for an overpriced Jeep tour.

Down a wet desolate muddy road, we departed the local bus at the ranger station in Purace National Park, rushing inside to get out of the inverted lake of water that was being poured on us from above. Putting on my hat, water resistant gloves, raincoat, pair of rain pants and my waterproof shoes…I was ready to enjoy the elements from the safety of my own clothes. After building some inner strength, enjoying a warm beverage in a roadside shack, we left the building that provided us a temporary refuge to begin our journey down the trail into the wild.

As the hiking trail bent around the corner I was able to get my first glimpse of the thermals…I had to take a moment to absorb what I was looking at. The colors were so vivid and the smell of sulfur was so strong, I had difficulties focusing, becoming dizzy from my overloaded senses. The gray wet skies pleasantly contrasted the bright shades of green that lined the banks of the crystal clear bubbling water with bleach white sediment that peacefully rested at the bottom. The lack of signs labeling every thermal and the absence of warning signs at every hazardous location was refreshing that the legal system has not yet destroyed this country.

Walking back to the road we were able to jump into the back of a small off-road vehicle and headed to our next stop a few kilometers down, stopping at the San Nicolas waterfalls. The muddy trails were a huge obstacle for those - myself - who didn’t have waterproof boots, just waterproof shoes…almost effective as waterproof sandals. Not that I didn’t want to get muddy…I just didn’t want to lose a shoe or be soaked so early into the trip in this defrosting freezer like weather. I tip toed along the side of the trial as would an unskilled ballerina minus the artificial bulge and white tights so that I can submerge myself into deeper pockets of mud without it seeping in from the top of my shoes. When possible, I would swing from the base of the trees, vines, fragile plant life and bushes to avoid the pockets of knee deep mud that would clearly make my waterproof shoes ineffective.

Martha, wearing “guerrilla boots” which I am told that is the current fashion for all of the guerrillas’ fighting the Colombian government, has the advantage of being able to walk in mud at knee level. The boots resembled gardening boots without the overpriced Smith and Hawkin label. Not being able to always follow her path, I had to sometimes locate my own route.
Seeing a small piece of wood in the middle of the trail I jumped and safely landed on in the center. With the mud feeling firm I saw a branch peacefully resting on the trail and fortunately within my reach. Jumping off the wooden platform, I landed with great accuracy onto the branch as would a squirrel jumping from a tree. Unfortunately for me, landing on it perfectly didn’t do me any good…it was a trap strategically placed by Mother Nature. My foot was immediately consumed by the mud – running on the top of the mud as Jesus did…in…Rome, I made it to the shore with little damage and my shoe in tacked. The mud only briefly making it just past the rim of my waterproof shoe…I could not complain on the lack of severity of my mistake in judgment.

Hearing the waterfall in the distance, getting closer and closer as we were trudging through the mud, I was getting excited to see this water show that was calling me. Reaching the top of the trail I could see the mist going horizontally into the jungle, violently being carried by the wind. Here was my first view of the mighty San Nicolas. The water barreled off the top as I looked up seeing the beauty of water being rerouted by the rocks during its decent. Trying to take photos without getting my camera completely wet, it was impossible – even when holding Martha’s poncho over my head for protection. I continued taking photos, figuring the risk of breaking my camera was not as great as the risk of forgetting this moment.

Leaving the waterfall, we caught a ride to the Lagoon by the means of standing on back of a Jeep’s narrow back bumper. The bumper holding less than half of my feet and my hands supporting an awkward grip on the roof rack, I was of coarse in some sick way…happy. As time passed, I looked over at my friend…slowly seeing her fake smile going limp. With her hands looking uncomfortably contorted on the bar, she quietly tells me that she was getting tired and didn’t know if she could hold on any longer. Advising Martha to adjust her grip, we continued down the road as the rain pelted us from above. Not looking like she was having much fun, I asked her if I should tell the driver to stop. With a dazed look, she says she is okay - clearly going to hell for such a blatant lie. I was not sure if she was just cold or at the point of unintentionally letting go so as a precautionary measure, I swung my leg around placing one leg between her legs and grasped the bar outside her grip with my arms under hers - confidently telling her that I would not let her fall – thinking, I probably will and that I too will be joining her in hell.

After a long bumpy ride to the trailhead at the Lagoon, we made it without any injuries… just a lower core body temperature than we are comfortably use to. Walking down the trail, it quickly ended. Breaking off into several different paths, they all looked muddy, wet and not extremely inviting. Wanting to make it to the lagoon, we left the trail jumping from one grassy island to another, as if we were playing doubles in a life size game of Frogger with only one life left. The closer we came to the lagoon, the firmer the ground felt with the mud and water slowly disappearing. We were walking on what seemed to be an enormously beautiful sponge that held so many different colors as they weaved between each other holding us up from the elements below us.

Done with exploring for the day and not wanting to seem like a quitter, I informed Martha we might be going too far out…reminding her we needed to get back to the road before dark. She wanted to make it to the edge of the water more than myself. We continued to move on, until…Mother Nature assisted me in my desires.

“Help me!” Martha yelled as I snapped my head around, seeing her on the ground. After several false cries for help with minor sinking’s, I casually laughed as her poncho covered the reason for her request. I slowly began to make my way over toward her. Her poncho moved during her struggle on the ground, exposing her leg. I then realized that her entire leg was missing as if it was taking off by a piranha with a glandular disorder - she broke through the sponge! Remembering how she told me she can’t swim…I had to quickly react. Treating the moss as a sheet of ice, I decided to lie on my stomach. Making it to Martha, she laid on the edge panicking, as she thought she was going to be completely consumed. Reaching into the opening of the moss, as a doctor would reach into the abyss to grab a breached child, I grabbed her leg and attempted to pull her out - my grip slipped. Reaching in again, it too slipped. My fingers were swollen like bloated waterlogged earthworms from the cold wet weather…not properly functioning and failing to listen to my commands. Reaching in for the third time…I managed to get her leg out, pulling it up for its first breath. With Martha’s boot dangling on the end of her foot, I managed to get it on…successfully performing my first sponge rescue.

Making it out of the marsh with many carefully planned steps and a much better route than the one that brought us out there, we needed to get back to the town center to find out if we could get a place to stay for the night. Walking along the road, we tried to hitch a ride without the signature “thumb sticking out on the side of the road” method – since my hands were occupied, making fists under my wet gloves, looking like I had no fingers… trying to keep my hands warm. We were painted with mud that the rain could not wash off, no matter what the angle or speed, preventing us from getting a ride in the nicer vehicles that passed us along the road. Walking and walking and walking, we became more and more silent the colder we became. I began hoping the cars that passed us who didn’t give us a ride…would break down or fly off the road - none of my hopes came true.

A small pickup truck in the distance was coming down the muddy road. Waving it down, the truck stopped. Going to the window, a woman gave me the sign that is was okay to jump in the back…in the back of the narrow pickup that was fully loaded with flattened cardboard boxes, covered with a thick plastic tarp. This load exceeded the height of the cab and clearly exceeded the weight capacity of this circus sized pickup truck. Not sure how we were going to get on, I ended up making a step with my hands for Martha as she squirmed like a slug to the top. Sliding along the plastic she laid on her stomach holding onto the plastic covered wooden 2x4 that went horizontally along the back of the cab. Using the wheel well, I was able to get a few toes on the tire as I boosted myself up, wiggling to the top. With my right hand, as I laid on my back…I was able to grab with my highly nonfunctional finger tips, a vertical 2x4 that was tightly covered in plastic.

Whatever the rush was, the pickup took off down the winding muddy road riddled with water filled creators and ponds. Still raining, we were on the first known mobile slip in slide – it was not yellow, nor would Mattel ever endorse such a liability. The vehicle would quickly steer right and left avoiding the obstacles with no railings to prevent us from slipping off. Making it more of a challenge, I could not rest my head on the roof due to it making a banging noise as it would strike the roof each bump, confusing the driver thinking we wanted to stop. After a about a 20 minute ride we made it to a bus stop…transferring to the next town to find a room for rent.

Finding a place to stay, I laid in a rented bed at someone’s house above a restaurant… with a smile fixed to my face…thinking that having a car and good weather would have definitely ruined, this perfect day.