Monthly Archives: September 2007

My Car: 1, Neighbor's Garage: 0

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After being out of the country for more than 2 weeks, I had to get used to driving again. Granted, it didn't take long, but it wasn't without its hiccups. One such instance happened on my 3rd day back. It was Wednesday, and I came home after work, which is unusual since I normally have band practice on Wednesday nights. But it was called off due to Jen being ill or something, I don't remember.We briefly tossed around the idea of jamming without Jen, but decided against it for reasons I also don't remember. So I got home very early for a Wednesday. I got out of my car, locked the door, engaged the alarm, and started strolling towards my apartment door. Then I heard a noise.  I turned around just in time to see somebody in a car that looked exactly like mine backing into the garage across the alleyway from my apartment. Then, for some reason, that car's alarm started going off. Then I noticed that no one was driving the car. By now you've figured out, as I finally did at that moment, that it was actually my car. It had slipped out of gear, and I'd apparently forgotten the parking break, and it had casually rolled backwards out of my garage, taken a 90 degree turn down the hill, and smashed, rear first into the right front facade of my neighbor's garage, doing quite a considerable amount of damage. I stood there for a moment, not really understanding what it was that I was seeing. “How did my car get there?”, I wondered. “You forgot the parking brake, dumbass”, I answered. My garage appears to be level, but apparently actually isn't. Considering how far I had walked before the car rolled 30 feet, it definitely started out slow. Unfortunately, that steep hill that leads up to my garage gave my car quite a bit of momentum by the time it finally impacted the other building. I must admit, the temptation to quickly pull my car back into my garage and clean off all the broken plaster and dust from the back of my car was there, but was quickly dismissed when the neighbors came running to see what the noise was all about. To their credit, my neighbors were not at all angry or upset about the incident, but were understandably amused. “Are you hurt” the woman asked. “I'm fine, I wasn't even in the car”, I replied, “It did this on it's own”. At this point, the male neighbor took a minute to display his amazement at the relative lack of damage to my car, compared to the near utter destruction of the garage.
Just look at this:

I definitely got lucky there. There's a crinkle in the plastic covering of my bumper, a tiny dent on my hatchback, and a scrape on the handle that opens my hatchback. The hatch opens fine. Oh, and the license plate took a direct hit, and got pretty well squished.
See?:
(NOTE: For a moment, I had posted a picture of the back of my car here, but it's generally a bad idea to post your License plate # on the internet, so I took it down. I'm smart like that.)
This is ironic, because the last time my car grew a mind of it's own and decided to smash into something without seeking my permission, it nearly destroyed the front license plate, while otherwise doing only minor cosmetic damage. I think my car resents having to wear license plates. Perhaps it is, in it's own way, rebelling against the totalitarianistic ideals that lead to having to have a license for ones own private property. But I doubt my car is that political. What sucks is that I just, about a month and a half before, got all the minor cosmetic damage from the previous incident repaired, so my car had been pristine. But, this damage is practically unnoticeable. Definitely not worth paying my deductible for repairing. Speaking of which, my insurance company will cover all the damage to the building with no cost to me whatsoever. The lesson here is: insurance pays better when your car damages anything at all other than another car. Weird. Then the police arrived, because we just wanted to get a police report for the heck of it, and they also laughed at me. Or my car. Or both. I'm sure cops like getting calls like that one, and laughing at dorks that forget their parking breaks, who's cars roll into something or other. Well, at least I now have matching squished license plates.

This Post is Not About Peru

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Sadly, it is time for me to return now to the “real world” here in the blogosphere. That means too much time on my hands, and more random thoughts shared with the world. Aren't you glad? I know you are.

Note for my fellow Peru travelers; this is the last post for which I will be sending you a notification, since no more posts will be directly pertaining to the trip. If you would like to continue to receive notifications, you can sign up as a subscriber, or just let me know and I'll keep you on the notification list. I can't believe we've been back for a month already!

Peruvian earthquake survivors are still in need of aid. Donations can be made here.

Upon returning from Peru, I had a shortened work week (thank god, since I had so much to do), then a normal work week, then a nice 4 day weekend for Labor Day. Well, it would've been nice, except that it was FREAKIN' HOT. 4 days of 100+ degree weather (that's 38+ degrees to you celsians), and me with no AC. Not to mention I have a flat roofed house, with no insulation. What it all boils down to, literally, is that it was roughly the same temperature inside my house as outside. So I sat in my own personal sauna, sweating like…well…like something that sweats a lot, for 4 days. I went all over town to try to find a portable air conditioner. Everyone was sold out. I was looking for a portable rather than a window unit because my apartment is equipped with ISOW's (Idiotic Sideways-Opening Windows) which would require minor construction involving plywood and drills to utilize a window unit. After another day of baking, I was ready to do just that, and went all over town only to find out that all the window units I'd seen the day before were now sold out. So, I had to make do with fans, which were just like large hair-dryers, really, and borrowing my roommate's portable AC when he was out of the house. I finally found a portable AC online, and ordered it, but it wouldn't arrive for 3-5 days. It was so hot, the heat permeated every atom of my apartment. Everything was warm to the touch. There was nothing cool I could put my hands on. All my clothes, even on the very bottom of the drawer, felt like they'd just come out of the dryer. I had to carry a towel with me in order to avoid leaving a big me-shaped sweat spot wherever I sat down. It was so hot, I was considering going in to work, just because there is AC there.

So my AC finally arrived the following Friday. As could be predicted, the temperature immediately dropped into the 70's, and it has been falling steadily since. I have not needed the AC a single day since I received it. Still, it also doubles as a heater, and I'm told my apartment will be as cold in the winter as it is outside. So at least there's that.  Last night, I actually put a blanket on my bed. That's how much cooler it's gotten. That AC sure looks pretty sitting there in my room, though.

Happy Fall on Saturday! Happy Yom Kippur, too.

Since I didn't want to break the flow of my Peru blog, I haven't written anything to commemorate my Alma Mater, Appalachian State,  pulling off what has been called the biggest upset in college football history, beating then #5 FBS team Michigan 34-32. All the folks over here on the west coast now know who I'm talking about when I mention ASU, which is neat. Ohio State fans give me a big smile when they see me in my Mountaineer gear.

The other week, my friend Mana invited me to a “Burning Down The House” party. There is a house that was being rented to students, in a nice neighborhood in Point Loma, overlooking the San Diego Bay with nice views of downtown and the famous Coronado Bridge. The house was built in the 70's, and just screamed “disco” from the moment you walk in. I assumed there had once been neon shag carpet, but it had since been replaced with tamer brown carpet. The reason the party had this theme is that the owner's have decided to demolish the house and build a bigger, more contemporary one on the site. So the plan had been to let party-goers actually demolish the house. That sounds like fun, huh? Unfortunately, the owners delayed their plans for a month, and that, coupled with fears of injuries and law suits, made them scrap their demolition party plans. Despite it's disco-ness, this was still a very nice house, with a pool in the backyard overlooking all the views noted above. I woulda lived there in a second. The rooms were all HUGE with built in shelving in the walls. Although I get weird feelings every time I see remnants from disco culture, for some reason, I could overlook the garish 70's light fixtures. Our party, for the party, was a motley one indeed. I went with a Persian, an Indian, a Swede, a Canadian and a Mexican. I don't know why, but I like hanging around with people when I'm the only white guy. Well, the Canadian guy is white, but you get my point.

 

Wandering in Peru, Epilogue: Final Days and Final Thoughts

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Prologue
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven

We survived the natural catastrophe, and managed to make it out of the wilderness.We lost a little bit of sleep to some rather noisy Russians that had taken up the campsite next to us at Choquequirao.
Before leaving, though, Steve, Lindsay and I went to the lower ruins for a look, once we managed to get an oversleeping Cesar out of bed. They were worth the short hike down (and tough climb back up). These were the most intricate terraces I'd seen yet, along with a building called “House of Waters” because the man in charge of the aqueduct and the irrigation lived there.

There was also one terrace that had the descendants of squash plants planted by the Inca still growing on it.

Going Down!
Day 4 of the hike was the easiest of all, being straight downhill the entire time.   I had no problems, since I have strong legs and good boots. My feet were fine, although a bit blistered. I was actually the second one to make it down to the Apurimac river, where we paused for lunch on day 4.

(Photo by Danielle)
We all took a dip (most of us just a wade) in the icy waters of the Apurimac to cool off (quite hot in the valley) and to get some of that infernal dust off. My socks, after being washed twice, still have some dust in them at the time of this writing. I took my rest on the rock in the above photo shown in the foreground, far right. They served us lunch while we lounged on these rocks. I can't say enough about that amazing cook and his staff. After a thorough rest, and waiting for it to cool down, we made our way back up to Chikisca, which had been our first night camp spot. As we took turns utilizing the shower facilities, the dreaded Russians arrived, and set up right next to us, again. When my turn to shower arrived, I got to the shower to find that the Russians had beat me to it, and had formed a line. No shower for me that night. Damn Russians. As tempted as I was to stargaze, we had to be up at 3am so we could get out of the valley before the sun arrived.

One Last Upward Heave

Although the Russians kept talking and making noise late into the night, I managed to get a few hours of sleep before our Coca Tea wake-up call. As we were preparing to depart, inevitably making noise, I couldn't help but feel a sense of retribution towards the Russians, who had cost us so much sleep the past two nights. Just then, one of them yelled out, “You are not the only ones here!”, implying that we were making too much noise. I felt like replying, “You should've thought of that last night when we were trying to sleep!”, but nobody said anything. Though I must admit most of us felt a little smug satisfaction at disturbing their sleep. I was packed and ready very quickly, and Cesar sent me on my way early, so as to get a head start, due to my slow pace. Despite the fact that it was 3am, and thus, completely dark, I still quickly became saturated with sweat, due to the heat and humidity of the river valley. I could barely keep a grip on my flashlight. It wasn't long before the group overtook me. We had quite a bit of straight up ahead of us. Here's the first bit of the day's trail as seen the day before from across the valley:

(photo by Danielle)
Once they caught up to me, John asked, “Why are we passing Mark?”
“You don't want to go at my pace”, I replied.
“Sure we do”, John said. But pass me they did. I didn't mind one bit. Once again, for a time, Ami was lagging back with me. As did Nick, who was still looking after us. Eventually we cleared the first of the switch-backs, and enjoyed a level trail for a good bit. This allowed me to enjoy the scenery, which was just beginning to be illuminated by the pre-dawn twilight, shrouded in mist.

Once the switchbacks began again, I fell behind again. But to walk out there, in the silence, amongst those mountains, alone with your thoughts and the scenery, was like heaven to me. After our lunch stop, at Capuliyoq, which had been our Day 1 lunch stop, I intentionally lagged behind to enjoy the solitude. From then on, there would be no more uphill climbs. It was mostly level, with a gentle downhill slope, for the rest of the way, before ending with a final climb into Cachora. While I was out there walking by myself, I couldn't help but to have a smile on my face. I must've looked deranged, in my dusty clothing, with filthy hair, face and hands, walking along grinning like an idiot, but I couldn't help it. I had gained an almost overwhelming sense of internal peace. Twice, on those uphills, Cesar had offered me a horse, and twice I turned him down. (Ami had turned him down, too. Good for her.) Now, it was smooth sailing. If I close my eyes, I can still imagine I'm on that trail, by myself, in the morning mist and the blessed silence. My paper journal ended with the end of the hike, mainly because my only pen ran out of ink.

We finally reached Cachora, and we all collapsed on a bench, lamenting the condition of our feet. But we all felt like we had truly accomplished something. I felt a mixture of happiness and sadness. I was happy that we made it, and that I pulled off that nigh impossible hike. But I was also very sad that it was over. I remember at one point saying to Nick (I think) back when we were still hiking those last few miles, when he had asked me how I was holding up, “I'm in no hurry for this to be over”. And I meant it. The end of the hike meant the end of our group's planned activities. All that remained was a free day in Cuzco, then our departures. After yet another 4 hour bus ride, where I didn't sleep, still trying to take in all the scenery, we arrived at our hotel in Cuzco. It was a different hostel, this time. I don't remember the name of it, so I'll just call it “House of the Abandoned Walking Sticks”, because it was filled with abandoned walking sticks. I added mine. I wouldn't need it any more, and it would be a pain to get it on the plane. As soon as we arrived, I had a long HOT SHOWER! My first in more than a week and a half. (hot, that is, I'd had showers). After that, I went straight to a nearby internet cafe, because we'd been told we needed to get in touch with our families, because they were worried we'd been in that quake. I found a bunch of worried emails asking me if I were ok, and I sent out a mass mailing assuring everyone that we were fine. The next day I slept in like I'd never slept in before. I think I finally got up around 10 am. It was nice to be in a bed again, but I would've traded it for a tent in a second. The next morning, I went shopping with Kirk and Victoria (affectionately nicknamed “KirkToria” by the group) but didn't find anything I wanted to buy. I then split off and decided to spend some quiet time reading. That night, we had our last dinner together (The first photo of the post is from then). It wasn't what I'd hoped it would be, but I don't think anyone realized that it would be the last time some of us ever saw each other again. The next morning, I was up at 4:30, to catch a cab to the airport. My connection to Lima, for some reason, was several hours earlier than everyone else's. It turned out to be a good thing, since they had some troubles with the airline regarding their tickets, and I didn't. I saw “KirkToria” one last time at the airport in Lima, and Lindsay was on my flight, but I never saw any of the others again after dinner the night before. Maybe I'll see them again someday. On this flight from Cuzco to Lima, I did manage to get a window seat, and took some shots of the Andes through the window:

(EDIT: I've since determined, after careful side-by-side comparison, that the above mountain is indeed the same one seen on our way to the Choquequirao hike here.)
After a layover of several hours in Lima, I met up with Lindsay and got on our flight to Panama. We didn't have seats together, so we didn't get the opportunity to discuss the trip, as I'd hoped. But I did get a window seat again. And I did manage to get some shots of the Panama Canal as we approached Panama City:

Panama City:

In Panama, I bid Lindsay farewell, and caught my flight back to LA, where my very nice roommate was waiting with my car. It was very strange to be driving in my car on a southern California freeway just hours after being in a cab in Cuzco, and just days after hiking in the Andes for nearly a week. It just didn't feel normal. I was hoping it would never feel normal again, but it has since regained normalcy. In the nights following my return, several times I awakened in the middle of the night, disoriented, unable to recognize where I was. (This isn't entirely surprising since I'd only lived in my current apartment for about 2 months when I left for Peru). I assumed I was still in Peru, in yet another Hostel, and noted how interesting it was that there were guitars hanging on the wall before I drifted off back to sleep. The only time I don't miss being in Peru is when I find myself sitting on an actual toilet, or in a hot shower. Peru changed what I view as “necessities”, and what I consider a good standard of living. Not a day has gone by that I don't get nostalgic for Peru, and miss the companions that I came to consider such good friends. My San Diego friends are polite, but have probably gotten tired of hearing me talk about it. Although, I do rarely bring it up unless asked. As I had hoped, the trip changed my life. I haven't quite figured out exactly what changed, but I will, and it did.

Wandering in Peru, by the Numbers


1500: distance, in meters, we climbed straight up on day 2 of the hike (and straight down on day 4).
1073: Photos taken.
81: Number of mosquito bites I counted on myself.
45-50: approximate distance, in miles, walked during Choquequirao hike.
65-70: approximate distance, in miles, walked during entire trip.63: approximate price, in American cents, of a cab ride in Cuzco. 8: Days without a hot shower.7.9: Rating of earthquake on Richter scale.
7: approximate price, in American dollars, of the most expensive meal I had in Cuzco. 6: Sets of batteries used in camera.5: Days without any shower at all.5: Modes of transportation used (feet, cab, bus, train, plane).
4: nights spent in tents
2.3: Gigabytes of memory used for photos.
1: Hell of a good time!

Meet the Group (listed alphabetically)

Meet Ami

Ami made a tough hike more bearable, with encouragement and commiseration. Her kind, laid back attitude was always a welcome addition to one's company. She was easy to talk to and easy to have around. Thanks Ami!

Meet Anahi

Her local knowledge and leadership were essential qualities in allowing our trip to run smoothly. Her sense of humor, and willingness to allow the group to be how the group wanted to be meant each of us felt free to be ourselves. Thanks Anahi!

Meet Cesar

I can't imagine a better guide to have out on a trek. His unassuming sense of humor was eclipsed only by his undeniable passion for his people's culture and history, as well as the nature of Peru. He showed us Evidence, not just Blah Blah. Thanks Cesar!

Meet Danielle

Without Danielle's photographs, this blog would have a lot of holes. Thanks Danielle! She is a capable hiker, and a fun person to have around. I'm glad she was part of our group.

Meet our Horses


Without these guys, we would've had to carry all our stuff up that mountain. It's safe to say we couldn't have done it without them. Thanks Horses!

Meet John

Danielle said “He fits right in”, and he did. I was impressed with his ease with children, and his knowledge of obscure, sub-mainstream music. His sense of humor, despite becoming increasingly inappropriate, was always able to ease our tensions. Thanks John!

Meet Karrie (or Kerri, whatever)

(far right)
She came along just in time to prevent even worse sunburning on my head. Thanks Karrie! Though she at times seemed taken aback by our group's candor and off-color humor, she was a welcome addition to our activities.

Meet Kirk

Kirk became known as the quiet guy who would occasionally, and randomly, say the funniest thing you've heard all day. (“I was busy”, anyone? You had to be there). I enjoyed talking to him about some of my ponderings on life, the universe and everything. And his old knee injury meant that I didn't always finish the hikes last. Thanks Kirk!

Meet Lindsay

She found the trip on-line, told me about it, and convinced me to go. Suffice it to say I couldn't have done it without her. Without her, you would've been reading boring drivel about my normal daily life for the past month. Well, make that humorous observations about my boring life. Actually, without her, many of you wouldn't be reading this at all…
Thanks again, Lindsay!

Meet Nick

Nick, with the help of Victoria and I, created a mathematical equation that could utilize a random number generator as a substitute for physical tarot cards, for divination purposes. He reminds me of the younger me that invented games to play on a normal calculator. He's a nerd, for sure, but nerds are my favorite people. Wouldn't have made it up that mountain without him. Thanks Nick!

Meet Percy

Percy was a knowledgeable and engaging guide for our Sacred Valley trip. His humor and patience endeared him to us, despite some repetitive idiosyncrasies (Please, snap!). He was the (second) best guide we had. Thanks Percy!

Meet Steve

I probably got to know Steve better than anyone on this trip. His medical knowledge was invaluable to our trek, as was his experience, having been to Peru before. Although I may not have agreed to share a room with him had it been after the photo above was taken, I enjoyed our lengthy conversations about just about everything. Holla Steve!

Meet Tom

Every group needs a Tom. He's the guy that's not afraid to talk to anyone, about anything. Tom never shied away from attempting to (badly) communicate with locals, or bargain with them. His loud, boisterous sense of humor always kept the mood light, even at the worst of times. He's certainly not afraid to laugh at himself, either. Thanks Tom!

Meet Victoria

Victoria read our palms, and told me I wouldn't get married until my mid forties, but I still like her anyway. As long as she stops calling me Marky Mark. She was always easy to hang out with, and up for hitting a museum on an off day, when others may not have been interested. Thanks Victoria!


Thank you all, for making this blog a joy to write, even though you don't leave comments. I've re-lived the trip again through the writing of it, and I'm once again sad to see it end. I'll think of you guys whenever I'm out hiking, or whenever I feel an earthquake.

Happy Birthday Phaedra! (Lindsay's sister)

Edit: For some reason, it gives me errors when I try to reply to comments, so here's my reply to Ami's comment, below:

I keep asking how to d/l my pics to D and John's site, but nobody's told me how. Do you know? It's weird, but it's like I'm homesick for Peru. Doesn't that seem odd? I miss it, and I miss you guys. I'd love to be back there, even if it meant being on day 2 of the hike. :)