Paso de Sico

We arrived in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile, yesterday in the early afternoon. The past week or so has been very difficult, so I'm not sure many people should really be so envious of my trip as I've been hearing since it does come at a price. At times we were camping and it was so cold that the water in my plastic bottles was freezing inside of my tent. I think it was -10 or -15C at night, and I couldn't really sleep at all because I was so cold. The air is very thin because we were so high up in the mountains, camping past 4200m a couple times, which means it's sometimes difficult to breathe. Then, of course, there was the road on which we were riding. The conditions were horrible, the washboard bumps and the sand was the worst. I have never had to get off the bicycle and push it downhill before until now. We had to ration our food and Chile wouldn't let us enter with meat, cheese, fruits or vegetables and the like. Of course, bread only lasts for a day or two before it gets too hard, so we didn't always have bread either. The wind dried out my eye, which caused blurry vision two days and a massive headache that when combined with the terrible road actually made me cry. And if we got into trouble, well in two days we saw 5 cars pass us on the road...

With that all said, however, the scenery was absolutely incredible. After coming down a pass from 4600m, we saw the largest salt flat/dry lake I have ever seen in my life surrounded by red mountains all around for as far as I could see. This,of course in the middle of no where, is where we encountered a German-driven seek and destroy vehicle (fuel capacity of 400+ liters is absurd!!) We spent the rest of the day cycling along the edge and at times I would just stop and look at what was below me. Another time, we rode up to this Andean lake at 4300m with a salt beach that is as white as you can imagine surrounding again by not mountains, but 2 large volcanoes with 2 more in the distance. On the lake was a population of black ducks that live there year-round and grazing on the golden hills around us were herds of vicunas (google it, like a cross between a camel and a deer) with very fuzzy fur that people sometimes use to make very soft and very expensive clothes. We camped there that night and were able to see the volcanoes and lake during sunset and sunrise in the morning. And we were alone with nobody around for miles and miles. If you can stand the conditions, then the reward is massive down here.

That is the life I have for the next few weeks before I return to a 'normal' way of life. On one hand, I am rather sad to leave the adventure, the exploration. On the other, I will be glad to have food at anytime, to be able to wear clean clothes and take a shower every day, to be able to talk to friends when I want. Too much of one or the other is not good, traveling teaches many lessons, but you must be able to share them with the people near and dear to you. In a way both lifestyles can keep you grounded in different ways. At home, you have the opportunity to interact with your community, friends, and family. You have a chance to advance society in some way or another, you grow and keep doing those things that help mold your persona. On the road, you learn to appreciate the comforts of home. You begin to understand what truly matters in life behind the facade we often erect around ourselves. You can appreciate the simplicity of life, and may even learn a thing or two about how to make things work around you. You can begin to understand the commonalities shared among all people, and from that baseline can then recognize and probe the uniqueness of the different cultures: the origin of the language groups of people speak, their myths and legends, holidays and festivals, foods, and most of all values. There is something to be said about breaking down the walls of ignorance, which often seem to be the origin of fear. Xenophobia, ignorance, in some ways equal, feeding one another in a vicious cycle until one day you decide to quit your job, pack your bags, and join the other travelers whose stories nearly always begin in the same manner. I can always return to the quote given to me by our Brazilian friend Bernardo, "If you want to travel with friends, go to your destination and you will find them there." The bond that exists between travelers is one of values, openness, one not exactly found in the average tourist who comes to snap a few pictures while being ferried around in a tour bus and then hide in their hotel room at night until they return home to boast of their grandiose adventure to far and distant lands. A websearch would serve the same purpose, and I hope I do not return to that as I have now been both a tourist and a traveler and understand the difference.

Pictures to come before I make the plunge to Bolivia!