I couldn’t see the river until we were close to the bottom.
The path was steep and this type of hiking usually calls for half steps. I was being pressed into taking fuller strides than I would normally take and my energy was quickly fading. Usually this wouldn’t be a problem, but I had to keep up. Pedro was out of sight and maybe my opportunity to capture the event as well. The path followed a series of irregular switchbacks composed of limestone boulders. Each step needed to be carefully placed while struggling to keep a moderate uphill climbing pace. We were in trees and I had lost my star documentary subjects.
From to time my focus would drifted off looking for Pedro. That caused me to stumble a couple of times. Once I fell and rolled to one side allowing my body to take the punishing blow that would have otherwise crushed my camera. The good news is falling uphill shortens the fall, but still hurts. Unfortunately on the second fall, the rocks strategically hit the same bruised areas. My energy was waning, my lungs burned and heart pounded hard. I had to stop several times. But then about ¾ of the way up the canyon wall, I spotted Pedro along the path.
As I approached Pedro, I was rewarded with a grin. I realized my first insight to his personality was this manifestation of him being the better man. Then we continued up a quarter mile where we caught up with the rest of his family resting. Humbled, I quickly sat down to squash any ideas of the family heading out before I had a chance to rest. Pedro offered me two foam-filled chocolate cookies. In rough Spanish I said: “Gracias”. Then I needed water even more, and I didn’t have any.
After five minutes, the family got up and readied themselves to continue the assent. I hadn’t been able to get my frontal shot earlier, but I still needed one of them climbing. I knew that there wouldn’t be any better time than the present to do it and I might never get another chance. As I started out ahead to get a shot, they immediately took off before I get my camera up and running. I followed and begin to speed up to get in front. Just as when I had tried earlier, Pedro went even faster. I sped up again determined to achieve my objective. As Pedro accelerated again, I realize there must be some protocol to leading and resigned myself to follow. However, the pace was slower than before. I seemed as if we climbed switchbacks forever. Eventually we reach the top. The trail came to a barbed fence. Pedro and I reciprocated spreading the horizontal barbed wires apart to climb through. Now on a relatively flat dirt road, we continued our journey.
Melina on the trail. The slope is steeper than this perspective appears.
From here on, the pace was easy and Pedro trailed the family. I had a feeling that they felt uneasy close to town, now they seemed more relaxed. While observing the Indians in town, several of us made comments about the husbands appearing to be disrespectful when we saw the wives trailing their husbands by ten to thirty feet. Now Pedro was following behind. I feel there must be some significance to this. I really don’t know, but think it may have something to do with protecting the family.
The trip continued on and on, much longer than I had expected. I even tried once more to take the lead for shooting video, but once again the wife wouldn’t allow me to pass her. Our path constantly changed between several trails and roads. The trails were over more rock now and were barely distinguishable. I would look back several times and at the transitions to build a reference. I even placed stones and rocks along the road for markers to guide my return home. I realized now that the trip was taking a lot longer than I had anticipated and I was flat out tired.
My attention was on how to get back It was getting late and I didn’t feel I would be able to make it back. Maybe I should turn back. However, I had a plan. Alberto said he knew where Pedro’s village was. He said it was along the highway. Boy I sure wish I had driven now. When it gets late and I haven’t shown up, Alfredo and Jack will miss me and come looking for me. There was another alternative. I could hitchhike back. I knew it wouldn’t be the safest thing to do, but I felt that Melina’s added documentation was important enough to take the risk. My other choice was to turn back now, but I wasn’t going to do that.
I was tired and the sun was low in the sky. The winter’s day would be ending shortly. Hitchhiking would allow me to reach both my goals in spite of my waning strength. I only needed to figure out how to get a ride without speaking Spanish. I’ll just have to deal with that when the time comes.
We trekked up and over a long incline. Then we went around a large sandstone outcropping. The total distance of the numerous trails we’d taken since the initial gorge had to be at least five miles. I didn’t know how much further we needed to go or if we’d ever get there?
