Vilcabamba, Water & Mountains

My dear and adventurous momma has been visiting me for the past few weeks in Ecuador, and for the last five days, we have been treating ourselves to a mini vacation within a vacation. We came to the small town of Vilcabamba in the way South of the country to hike, horseback ride, drink the famous water (which takes some of the credit for the common yet extraordinary lifespans of 100 years plus in this village), and relax at our hotel/spa, Madre Tierra. Each day we have been gifted a plethora of surprises and life affirming experiences... otherwise called challenges, yet for the two of us, we have been drinking them up with smiles and laughter.

Yesterday was to be the nice, moderately simple 5 km hike through the local national park, Podacarpus. We arose early, delighted in our full breakfast of eggs, hardy toast, fresh tropical juice and coffee on the veranda of our philodendron bordered hotel, and took a taxi to the trail head. We confidently set off into the cloud forest as the thick white water systems above drizzled upon our non-rain coated heads. Soon the trail was a straight up climb through muddy bogs and dripping moss covered trunks, our humble footwear gingerly guided around the wettest parts. Within an hour, we had reached the first razor peak and could only see the others peeking like giant green teeth out of the mounting cold weather front. Presumably, the trail went along the ridge, which was literally no more than a thin spine with both sides falling away dramatically into green jungle. Signage was not part of the deal. The only map we had was a non-topographic pamphlet acquired at the entrance gate and even it was quickly disintegrating with the onslaught of high winds and rain. Nearly soaked through already, we forged ahead, puddle hopping and me still stopping to ooo and ahh at cool high altitude flowers and even pull my camera out to capture images.

An hour and a half later, we had not found the connecting trail to make the loop back down the mountain. Officially sopping wet and unsure of our location at this point, we turned back, knowing how far we had to go to get back to our hero at the bottom of the trail (the taxi driver, Manuel). With only a half a bottle of water, a cell phone that was not getting reception, the wet rag of a map, and my tobacco pouch to leave offerings to the high mountain spirits, we didn't want to risk becoming another statistic. The brutal descent was full of slips and muddy butts, and much conversation of how lucky we are to even have legs and healthy bodies to do such a crazy hike. Raisins and chocolate awaited us in my backpack in the car. We dried out, had wine with dinner that night, and woke up today in order to take another incredibly treacherous climb into the Andes... except the horses we rode did all the real work.

Overall, this enchantingly beautiful valley is just that. They get plenty of rain, but the town has been without water for weeks as the systems to catch and deliver that precious water are not as dialed in as we all are used to. The streets are small and cute and everything is cheap, but I don't see any of your faces here. Once again, I admit, I miss you guys... The more I travel the more I realize how much I love my family and friends, and how radically blessed I am to have all of you amazing individuals in my universe.