La Rute de Maya - Guatemala final post

Hi everyone:

Well Guatemala is behind me now, a series of memories strung together like decorations on the Christmas tree. Liek those decorations, I can pull them out anytime - admire them, share them with others, reconfigure them anew each time. How to sum up an incredible month in an incredible country?

It's true that pictures can often tell stories better than words, so I'll keep this post brief. Suffice it to say that Guatemala has provided me with some incredible memories. We met incredible people, visited places so beautiful we couldn't find words to describe them, and had experiences that are indelibly imprinted in our psyches (we - allow me to explain - is my beautiful fiancée, my as-yet-unborn child, and me).

It's hard to imagine such a gentle people as the Maya having to suffer through something as unimaginable as the brtual civil war that wracked their country for 36 years. Walking through remote villages in the Ixil, it's not hard to see the scars this period left on it its people. There's a hesitancy on the part of many of the Maya we met, a reluctance to open themselves to strangers. But spend a bit of time to get to know them and you’ll be rewarded with a whole lot of grace and hospitality.

Our final week in Guatemala was spent riding around Lago de Atitlan, kayaking and trekking on the lake, relaxing at Casa Del Mundo, hiking an active volcano, enjoying a colourful weekend of Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Antigua, and visiting the ancient Mayan site of Tikal. It was about a year’s worth of adventure, all packed into one week. I’ll let the pictures do the rest of the talking.

Next post: Surf and Singletrack from Chile

I'm in Chile!

The last few days in Peru on our Inca Adventure DH trip were memorable ones. We spent the last 2 days in Cusco, the capital of the Inca empire. Stephen Wilde continued to snap some incredible photos, especially of the local children. On our last day of riding, we did some shuttle drops just above town. One of the trails is a local favourite and there were about half a dozen local kids, some with spakny full-suspension bikes and full gear, some with old beaters and no helmets. Funnily enough, the kids on old bikes seemed to go harder than the kids who were all dialed up. Watching Peruvian teenagers throw themselves around on the jumps with no helmets was a little nerve-wracking, to say the least. So I told Russo I would send him some helmets that I have back in Fernie, so that he could distribute them to the local kids. It would suck to have some kid end up in the hospital just because he couldn't afford a helmet.

Derek from Vancouver and Wayo, our Peruvian guide, had fun on the local jump trail. There was a 7-metre step-up jump built out of wood that is among the first North-Shore style jumps in the country. The locals seemed to enjoy watching them throw their meat around and Stephen got some great mag-worthy shots. Check it out.

After getting raked over the coals getting my bike to Santiago ($150 for the excess baggage, plus $132 US for some sort of 'reciprocity' fee to enter Chile), I got to our hotel at 2 am and promptly woke up David and Patrice, my media contingent for this trip (I'm setting up a new trip in Chile for winter 2007/2008). David is a great writer from Victoria, while Patrice is a crazy French photographer from Cranbrook. They didn't seem too keen at 2 am to see me, nor the bright light in their face. I decided to spare waking them up for beers and crawled into a nearby room.

The next day, we met up with my local friend Eduardo, who took us up to a fantastic trail about an hour's climb out of Santiago. It's amazing, but within an hour by bike from downtown Santiago, you can be up in some massive mountains, in total countryside.

We hopped in the van the next day, with another guide Pancho - a dreadlocked mountaineer of 24 who looks like he'd be right at home in BC - and our driver Vicente, in a sweet van loaned to us by Patamac Adventures. About an hour and a half out of the city we started climbing into the mountains. As we ascended the steep mountain road, Mt. Aconcagua, South America's highest peak, came into view. Hard to believe, but there it was, all 6955 metres of it. Almost 7 kilometres of mountain. The climb was challenging but doable, and when we got to the top, we were above a low-lying valley mist that looked simply ethereal. it was one of those 'there must be a God' moments and Patrice did a pretty decent job of getting it on his camera, although I've only managed to wring 4 photos out of him so far. Seems he won't let me have anything until he's properly processed it on his laptop. Fair enough - gotta let the pros do what they do best.

Eduardo and I left the 3 of them (Pancho, David and Patrice) behind and flew down the trail. Within a few minutes, the technical meter ratcheted up steadily. About halfway down, we hit a rock garden that was über-nasty, and threw me around at will. I managed to get through it, but by the time we were out of there, it was getting pretty dark. The last 4 kilometres were fast, smooth sand, but I could barely see the trail, and the stars were already out in full force. We pulled in to a small village in pitch black darkness, where Vicente was waiting with our van. And it was freezing cold. Good thing I forgot a jacket.

We waited an hour for the rest of the guys, and were just about to start riding up looking for them, when they came down. Patrice blew out his tire and they walked the rest of the way down. An epic start to an epic trip.

Tomorrow we're going on an urban ride in Valparaiso, a beautiful seaside town where the poet Pablo Neruda once lived. I can't believe I get to do this for a living.