Day 12 – Not Keeping Up With The Boys and Not Even Trying

June 15th – 4:27pm

Today was a frustrating day. Alberto, Dan, and I did La Colonia today, which is one of the hardest trails the ABF has. It sucked royal dick. Just saying.

When you’re trying to keep up with an Ecuadorian Guide who has been doing the same exact trails for 11 years and doesn’t ever get tired, you kind of just give up. And Dan was staying right up there with him, so I didn’t have a chance in hell.

Instead of adjusting their pace to match mine, they just kept speeding up the steep up-hill parts as fast as they could with no consideration for me being like a half mile behind them. I actually got really pissed off about it, because they’d go up the hill and stop, sit down and wait for me to catch up and, instead of letting me take a break when I got to the top, they’d speed off again, right up the next hill. So, basically, I felt like I could never take a break and I eventually just stopped caring. I wasn’t going to run to keep up with them. I just wasn’t. They should have been a little more courteous and should have just slowed down some to accommodate the slow-walker (i.e. me).

Before we even got to the uphill part (that I was actually looking forward to), we had to walk down the mountain through slim and very steep mud paths. Luckily, I didn’t fall at all, but there was one point where it was just a mud slant with no foot holes and I was just like, “Screw it!”, and sat down and just let myself slide down the mountain as if I were snow tubing. I hate steep, downhill mud paths. With a passion. They are a broken ankle or near-death experience waiting to happen. (Alberto and Dan couldn’t even be bothered to slow down for this part either…)

So, all this downhill mud? Where does it go? To a big-ass river. How do we cross said river? On the most terrifying imitation of a bridge ever. This bridge is little more than steel cables with about a half dozen two by fours laying  end-to-end across them. So, this bridge was about the width of my two feet. It was terrifying, but somehow I made it across and then all the up-hill and frustration started.

I actually got so frustrated that I said to go on with out me to the last of the stations, because I was done. If I tried to keep up with them any longer, I’d be dead. I’m terrified to think of how the Paramo trail is going to go tomorrow, but Sarah and I have decided to band together and stay together with out trying to rush to keep up with the guys.

I’ve also decided that I’m too nice to everyone, but I don’t receive the same treatment in return.

“Hey, does anyone have 50c for the bus? I only have a $5.” – Dan. “Yeah. Sure. Don’t worry about it.” – Me.

“Does anyone have antibacterial wipes?” – Dan. “Yeah, here you go!” – Me. “Thanks a lot!” – Dan. “No problem.” – Me.

“Can you make the reservations for Otavalo? – Guys. “Yeah, no problem.” – Me. I made the reservations using that last bit of my phone card that I bought to call home…

“Can I go in front of you?” – Jack. “Sure…” – Me.

“Hey, I’m going to buy phone cards. Does anyone want to come?” – Me. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come.” – Jack. “Do you want me to show you how to use that?” – Me. “Yeah, thanks.” – Jack. “No problem.” – Me.

I’m so nice to everybody and I talk to everybody. This place would be so quiet if I didn’t try to start conversations. But, yet, I’ve heard Kerry say I could talk the ears off a donkey. Oh and that I’m a know-it-all too. I’m kind of ready to say goodbye to these people (with the exception of Sarah)… Everyone is so two-faced. I wish I were truly traveling alone now. I wouldn’t have to conform to everyone’s standards. I wouldn’t have to worry about talking too much, knowing too much, walking too slow, being too nice, or giving too much (information, time, energy, money…). I wouldn’t have to worry about offending anyone or being offended by anyone…

I sound so miserable today and I think that’s because today was a truly awful day. The highlight of my day was walking to Apuela after the trail and sending e-mails home with the hopes of receiving e-mails back. Oh and buying phone cards, because that means I might get to talk to my family and fiance who I actually give a shit about. Because today, I really couldn’t give a fuck less about anyone in this bear house (except Sarah).

I’ve learned something about myself already on this trip. And, that is that I’m not as strong as I think I am. I’m burning out at just 2 days till my two-week mark (and I still have over 2 and a half weeks left). I’m breaking down on the bi-daily basis and it really pisses me off. Today, I didn’t break down because I felt weak, I broke down because I was just so pissed off at Alberto and Dan for pretty much leaving me behind the entire time. Tomorrow better be better or I'm going to have a terrible weekend with these people (except Sarah).

I really miss my Ben. I just want something familiar and I feel like he’s the only thing that is truly constant anymore (aside from my Klause-man). Dad and Amelia are completely hit-or-miss. Mom seems like she’s in her own world sometimes or she’s too tired to be bothered. I feel like it has taken me leaving for anyone to truly give a shit. Mom actually seems happy when I call.

I’m hoping all these feelings are going to pass, because otherwise I’m going to have a miserable night.

Misery and Andean Bears,
Ashley

P.S. Another high-light of my day was spending a good 20 minutes with a street dog in Apuela who looked exactly like a skinnier, shorter version of Klause. I almost cried when he sat for me. He definitely had an owner because someone whistled for him and he ran over with his tail all-a-wagging. So, that was encouraging. I even shared my crackers with this dog because he was so sweet and skinny. If I could have had my way, I would have walked him right onto the bus with me and he would have lived at the bear house in the girls room. I would have even bought dog food in Otavalo this weekend. I miss my Klause soooo much.

Post Dinner:

So, tonight wasn’t a complete bust. Sanuel, one of the guides, dropped by at the house and we were planning on playing cards and such. So, we invited Sanuel for a beer and played a couple different games. It was difficult to explain a game to Sanuel, because of our poor Spanish, so we ended learning one of his games. The game he taught us is called Cuarenta (which means 40 in Spanish) and I still don’t understand how the game goes. But there were lots of laughs shared all around. Fun times.

Paramo tomorrow.