Strong and Dirty

I started out my life as a risk averse, timid little girl who didn´t like to get dirty. I liked ballet and barbies and dress-up. How exactly did I blossom into the adventuress that I am? If you only knew how dirty I am. Dirt and grime and sweat and the raw emotion that seeps out of your pores when you are viewing and experiencing the world without make-up.

Over the past week I have: climbed a volcano, gone horseback riding on a ranch, found secret waterfalls, whitewater rafted through rapids, gotten lost by myself in the middle of the woods, played pool with new friends, gotten drunk and giddy on pisco sours, been moved to tears by my waiter, watched the sunset and sunrise over lakes and mountains, showed up at the airport without a ticket, took-off and landed five times, experienced altitude sickness, felt the bliss of watching children dance and play, seen snowcapped volcanoes and salt lakes, seen llamas and flamingos, been scammed by a ticket agent, sat on a chicken bus for twenty hours through the sketchy Peruvian night, used bathrooms that would arise beyond-horror in my mother, had my reservation lost by my hostel, met a spiritual goddess, asked my high heals to show the dance floor who´s boss, and danced salsa for hours with dreamy chicos. And now here I am, tasked with the feat of writing about it all. I am going to have to give it to you in installments folks - my life is that cool.

I was in Pucon, Chile for a few days, which is about 12 hours south of Santiago. The district is visually stunning. There are sparkling lakes, forests, mountains and volcanoes throughout the entire region. I mentioned last time that I climbed a volcano. The views made the day so worth it - but man! - that was freaking hard. The thing that I didn´t realize is that I would not be hiking on normal dirt. Think about this - there was not a single piece of vegetation, or a single insect, on the entire volcano. The ground is not dirt - it is volcanic rock and ash. It is really unstable and kind of crumbles with every step. In addition, the volcano is pretty steep. You rarely have a completely platform piece of rock to step on, and so your mind is working overtime - where do I step in order to create the best balance for myself, and to set up the next step? Also - how do I conserve as much energy as possible - how do I make my steps big enough to maintain a good pace, but small enough that my legs do not get tired too quickly? There was very little conversation during most of the trek. I got so deeply focused on what my body was doing that I was almost meditative - leaving all emotional thoughts, and all thoughts of home, behind. When you focus on nothing but your body, you almost leave your body at times. Then, once you reach a break point and turn around to admire the view, your humanity comes rushing back and you feel so proud about how high you´ve climbed. I got to float in between these two states all day.

One of the most fun parts of the trek was on the way down. The volcano involved a rocky part, and then an icy part, and then another rocky part that was much steeper. We knew that the topmost rocky part would be very challenging to get down, but the reward was the ice - we got to strap these pieces of vinyl to our asses and slide down the mountain! In reality, we didn´t slide as quickly as I had hoped - some leg work was still involved. But, it was a huge relief after tackling the steep and crumbling rocks at the top. When we took off from the summit, someone in our group muttered "Seriously, I am going to die." Our guide smugly responded, "Well, the only certain thing in life is death." Natasha and I, chicas Americanas that we are, cheerfully fire back at exactly the same time: "Don´t forget about taxes!" So classic.

After recovering from the volcano with a day of shopping, eating, and strolling on the lake-beach, Natasha and I had one of the most perfect days of my life. We started with a morning of horseback riding in the Claro region of Pucon. It was just to two of us and our guide - three people on horseback. Our horses were gorgeous - and I rather fancy the fact that mine was named Esperanza - hope! We took off down some country roads and admired the livestock hanging out on both sides. We managed to control our horses whenever there was a moving vehicle headed our way and steared them to the side. At one point, we literally saw a chicken crossing the road. We were so giddy and happy with life that this chicken seemed absolutely hysterical. I love laughing at nothing!

We crossed through a gate and rode up a dirt path that put us on a ridge, crossing through a beautiful ranch. We had incredible views of the mountains, clouds, and one gorgeous, sparkling lake. There were cows grazing throughout the fields. It was so magical. There is something so empowering about being on a horse. I have no interest in being an equestrian, but on Esperanza I felt like a beautiful, sexy cowgirl. Or, more like a cowwoman. Horsewoman. Whatever. It´s called cloud 9.

We tied the horses to some trees and hiked down a steep trail to a beautiful, deserted waterfall. If it hadn´t been cold, I would have been jumping in the water in my birthday suit. The spray of the water was so delightful. Natasha and I looked at each other...I´m with you, girlfriend. It is just so good. I rode back on Esperanza, at this point completely infatuated with her, and marveled at the maternal instincts coming out in Natasha with her horse: "That a girl - good girl! That´s a good girl. C´mon girl." Hahaha! Everything is just divine. We got back to Pucon, ate a quick but delicious lunch, and then took off on our next adventure...rafting!

So we were waiting to get picked up, and felt forgotten at a point...and we were wondering: who, other than us, goes rafting on a cool, kind of wet day? Because at this point it was legitimately raining. Are there going to be enough people in the raft? What are we getting ourselves into? The van came and dropped us off at the starting point, and we quickly realized that we were not even close to alone. There was a huge group already suited up, and this was not a random spazzy group of backpackers - they were all college kids from Syracuse University studying abroad in Santiago. These kids had so much energy! It was totally awesome. I felt like I was on spring break.

One of our guides gave a hysterical safety briefing involving a lot of sexual innuendo and therefore there were a lot of jeers from the peanut gallery. (Example: there was a way that chicos were supposed to hang on to the rescue kayak, and there was a very different way that chicas were supposed to hang on.) We played a game of musical chairs in the mud, but with our oars, and at this point we are positively giddy. We break into three "teams" and the riff raff begins - splash war combat! Oh my lord. Life is supposed to be this fun all of the time!

Our guide Christian taught us the commands that we would need to follow in order to avoid tipping over when barreling through rapids. High side left! I dive into Natasha´s lap on the other side of the raft. High side right! Natasha dives into my lap. Piso! We drop to the floor and pray to God. All of these commands started getting nicknames, like "Piso!" became "Peace Out!", and the later, "I need to Piso" became "I need to pee, sir!" spoken in a British accent. Hilarious. Over the course of the afternoon, people got pulled into the water by pirates from neighboring rafts. There were persistant splash wars, and we got stranded on rocks and were nearly vertical in trying to save ourselves. At one point, we got into the water and tumbled through gentle rapids sans raft (after which I got to latch onto Rodrigo, the kayak man, in chica position). There was also a short cliff jump towards the end of the trip - woohoo! We were shivering and soaked to the bone, but seriously, I will live in the river if I get to feel that kind of high every day. Life is supposed to be this fun. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Being wet and cold for so long caught up with Natasha, and she was feeling a little under the weather on Monday, so I decided to explore Huerquehue National Park on my own. I boarded a bus with a trail map and a liter of water. It was kind of drizzly, but moody and majestic for exploring the forest. The bus dropped me off at 2PM, and there was only one option for returning to Pucon - the 5:30PM bus. OK - three and a half hours. I can do this. The Los Lagos trail is supposed to take three and a half hours - no problem.

The thing that I didn´t realize is that it would take 45 minutes to get to the trailhead where the three and a half hour trail would begin. And, I did not have five hours. OK - still no problem. The trail sort of looks like an 8, and the forest ranger implied that I could just do the bottom loop of the 8 - I could make a little o. Is this making sense? This made perfect sense to me.

The trails are muddy, but I have great new Goretex trail runners - I am all set. The lakes are sparkling blue and green. The air is so fresh! Oh dear, the trail is getting muddier, but that´s ok. Oh! I am not the only person on this trail. I hear someone! OH AHHH!! OK - this is not a person - I have come face to butt with a huge cow. I have never seen a cow THIS up close before. Ahhh, my cow has friends. There are now six or seven cows, and three are in my direct path. Shit. (And literally, there is cow shit everywhere.) Do cows care if you walk by them? Will they get freaked out and charge at me? Or are they just nonchalant about me happening upon them? Why are there cows in the middle of this national park? Oh dear. There is mud and cow shit everywhere. I have a few stones to work with so that I do not end up ankle deep in cow shit. The problem is that the cows are kind of stepping on my stones. Patience Katie, patience. When there is a will there is a way. Somehow, I grace past these cows unnoticed. I am so badass.

The trail continues to get more and more gorgeous, but I am carefully watching the clock, and I am a little nervous. I find brief diversions in two secret waterfalls that I get to own for a few precious minutes. But now, back on task. Where the heck is the loop? Ah, ok - I have reached the Lago Verde, which is a good sign according to my map. I should be looping around here. Ah, here is where the trail must continue. I walk, and I walk. And the trail gets narrower. And then narrower. Now I am getting pricked. I rip my pants. My adrenaline is pumping and I am getting scared. I am lost in the forest in the middle of nowhere, Chile, and I am going to miss my bus, and then I will have no way to get back to Pucon. I am running out of water and I am starving, being an idiot for thinking that I wasn´t going to need any lunch after a few hours of uphill trekking. Shit!!! Do I have time to retrace the path I just travelled and go back the same way? Not if I go at the same pace - it is 4:10PM. I will have to haul ass down this mountain. Go Katie, go!

I am superwoman. I am running so fast down this mountain, through the mud. I laugh in the face of wild cows! The hunger and the thirst goes away - this is survival. It is amazing what my body can do when it doesn´t have a choice. I feel so strong.

I will tell you about getting mushy over my waiter and melting over Chilean children next time. I am leaving you with the image of Katie as superwoman - I made the damn bus with four minutes to spare.

Much love from one very strong and happy Katie. Besos!