Peru… Not much I can say about this trip without wanting to get into the whole trip. I will cover some of the trip to satisfy some curiosity, but if you want more stories, you have to do a lunch or dinner with me.

It started with Alpamayo; this mountain was my main goal of the trip and I was planning on spending all my energy here. The climb is normally done in 5-7 days and the fastest I have hear anyone doing it was 3 days. There are 3 camps (camp 1, base and A.B.C.). I went from trailhead to camp 1 in 5 hours. I slept there for 5 hours and woke up with one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen. That morning, I went from camp 1 to camp 2 (base) to camp 3 (advanced base) to summit back to camp 1. It was 3:30am when I finally found camp 1 and was never more thankful to lay down. I slept for 2 ½ hours and then made it back to trailhead by 10 am. A 5 day trip was crammed into 37 hours, the fastest I have ever heard (speed is safety). I paid the price however: my back was bloody from rubbing my pack (65lbs to camp 1, 45 to A.B.C., and about 20 to summit), my lip split so bad the blood from it made part of my beard orange, my hips are still bruised and cut, I lost 7 lbs., my left shoulder has a pinched nerve that makes my arm feel like it’s on fire, and I lost the feeling in my left big toe (I expect that to return soon). Alpamayo was the most beautiful, daunting, scary mountain I have ever seen. The hardest mountain I have ever done. The second highest, but the highest solo I have ever done. The route I finally chose to do (French-Direct) was difficult enough to make me focus and sometimes fear. I never thought I would die there, but then again, I never really had that thought cross my mind. Now, as I think back, there were (at least) three times I believe I came close to not making it past the task. A retreat from my route was unavailable and so there weren’t many options. I suppose it wasn’t too farfetched of an idea that I could have not made it. I suppose that’s why there was so much worry among my loved ones, and so much doubt among everyone I talked to about it. Thank you all for your prayers and positive energy you sent my way.

After Alpamayo, I made my way to Cusco. Along the way there were many adventures: running from the police with a bus driver who wasn’t licensed, having the police search my papers and nearly take me because I didn’t look my photo on my passport, the longest and most uncomfortable bus ride I have EVER had, and more. Because of my success on the mountain I was looked at by other climbers and adventures as some kind of celebrity, which was fun. Because of my height and beard I was looked at by the locals as some kind of giant freak, which wasn’t as much fun. I arrived in Cusco and found a bed. From there I tried to recover from a very swollen knee, hips that cried to stop moving, and a body that didn’t have any part that didn’t hurt. Even my guts, lungs, heart and head screamed with pain. I recovered as much as I could (and am still on the road to recover fully) and made my way to Machu Picchu. Amazing, mystifying, and captivating. The lost city was incredible. There are no words to explain. Getting there was a near-death experience with cliff sides and deadly rivers, roads unclearly marked and drivers who seem absent minded. As the bus I sat in weaved and winded around corners whose fall would spell certain death, but whose view to the raging river below was spectacular, all I could think was, “I would like to raft that river.” After we arrived safely to our destination, I spoke to the other white faced, fear struck passengers about the trip. It was at that point I decided: There is something wrong with me…

The ride back was a true South American experience. You haven’t really had a South American bus ride till you ride on the floor… all 6 foot 3 of me… in all my pain…rolled up into a little ball on the floor of a VERY rough 8 hour bus ride home.

The 12 hour layover in Lima, the 15 minutes to catch the plane in Atlanta and the arrival in the wrong terminal in Salt Lake. The trip was a great time for me to focus. To concentrate on me. Why do I climb? Why do I climb alone? What is success and failure? Why have I found myself here in my life? What do I need to do to ensure a bright future? Can I ensure a bright future? How do I show compassion to the hard? How can I show love where there is no one? What is a relationship? How much of this life is MINE? How much ownership can I claim? Some people you choose to remember, and some you will never be able to forget: who is in my heart and why? Allot of questions, some answered, some not. But a good time to neutralize my head and heart, and re-center my spirit. Somehow mountains do that for me. The longer and more difficult the trek, the more centered I can become. This was a perfect harbor in the tempest of my life. The ironic thing is, Peru (the mountain and cities and jungle) seemed like a tempest, and home seemed like a harbor.

Some of the trip was exciting. Some of it was scary. Some of it was just fun. Some of the trip was lonely and full of thoughts. Thoughts of people I have loved and lost. People I have had the great pleasure of having in my life. People who talk of love and people who show love, and they aren’t always the same. I wanted to share these aspects of me, and have someone close. I realized I don’t have many people in my life that I consider ‘close’. I also made peace (again) with my demons, and I feel like a better person. I have made changes in my life, for the better I think. Things I don’t want to do again, and things I need to start doing. And I am moving forward in life. The funny thing about that: even if you choose not to move forward in life, life moves you forward. So… here I go.