it was all silence when i set foot in the canyon. the kind of stillness that seems permanent and infinite. as dense and ancient as the andes surrounding me. a silence that you must give into. you hold your breath and gaze in wonder at the mountains. you are in the belly of time.
our guide broke the silence, jorge's calm and patient voice held my attention for only a second, but i heard him explain that the van had a flat tire and that we would be walking to the canyon from our current location on the windy road. this was no bother to me. i had been wanting to get up and walk around since the moment we rounded the first corner and saw the snow and the mountains. as we walked up towards the mouth of the canyon there was the faint trickle of water. a small stream from the melting snow of the andes rolled lazily and steadily down the mountain. as we walked uphill the stream grew to a small river and blocked our path several times. we climbed over rocks to avoid getting wet although some walked right through the puddles with the help of the guide.
i was excited. for a moment i almost felt like i was back on my camino. nothing but me and my back pack, however the group and especially the fact that we had a guide with us confirmed that this walk would be significantly shorter than the last time i climbed through the mountains. it is a very different thing to walk with a large group... trying to walk their pace, making sure no one gets left behind. the walk was relatively easy. a couple of tricky points which required attention and focus, especially when i got the bright idea to blaze my own trail. we shared the path with horses and other hikers. the change of altitude affected us all, and we were breathing heavy as we finally reached the lake that we were climbing towards.
the water was mud brown and freezing. towards the center of the lake there was a bright blue iceberg. it grew cold immediately and i pulled on the sweater that a friend had lent me. my feet were tired and i really missed my hiking boots. i pulled of my shoes and stretched out my legs. snow plummeted down from atop the mountain across the lake. the rocky shore of the lake was littered with campers and people. already that temperature had dropped significantly, the campers were in for a cold night. i put my shoes back on and explored the upper part of the shore. the canyon stretched on behind us seemingly endless. in a breathless moment of joy and amazement i asked myself just how i had gotten here. thousands of miles from anything familiar. my life, now so completely different from the one i lived before. i wonder if i can ever go back there. back to my life in LA, back to normalcy, back to things that people tell me i should want. i touch the rocks, they will outlast us all. i take a little pebble and carry it back down to the shore. i love how it feels in my hand, i love that something so small holds more history than anything i can imagine. i think about taking it with me, but it is not mine to take. i set it down and join the others as we prepare to head back down the mountain.
the sun is high and strong, but soon, very soon, it will be night. i head down the mountain different but the same. i marvel at how i can be so many things at once. i find the bus repaired and ready to take us back to Santiago. I find my seat and am half asleep as the bus bounces down the rocky road ahead.
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