The last three lines of Robert Frost´s 1916 poem, The Road Not Taken, read:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I like those lines. I like the woods. I like to travel. And I like taking the ¨other¨ path. However, for my present purposes, I would like to alter these three lines to fit our present situation. They should read as follows:
Seven trails crossed paths in the jungle, and I --
I tried all of them,
And it didn´t make any difference.
From the beginning. After Cusco our next, and unfortunately last, stop in Peru is Puerto Maldonado. It is in the jungle, at the intersection of the Madre de Dios and Tambopata Rivers. They both eventually empty into the Amazon and then the Atlantic Ocean. We decided to spend some money and fly the 45 minutes, in order to bypass the 17 hour bus ride. When you travel you either pay in money or time. With a couple days left in Peru, our time is more precious than our wallets.
Jungle lodges on the rivers charge $210 for a 3 day, 2 night stay. But we like doing things our own way. So, we decided on community homestays in the small village of Baltimore (not a bad town) on the Tambopata River. Two ways to get there, a boat (only leaves on Monday or Thursday) or an hour taxi ride, ask to get dropped off at km 37 and then a 2-3 hour walk through the jungle on a (usually the word a indicates something singular, as in one, right?) trail. Found a taxi driver, jumped in and we were off. Got to the trailhead at about 3:30 and started walking. Our driver recommended a guide, but arrogance and frugality (maybe a Nebeker trait? I don´t know) kicked in and we declined. We grabbed our bags and started down the trail. Had to move fast, dark around 6pm. Don´t want to get lost in the jungle.
Let´s call the trail we are on Trail 1 (this will make sense as the story goes on). The walk is beautiful. Large papaya plantations on the sides of this dirt road, banana trees etc. Typical jungle fauna. Actually, it is a strange cross of Mississippi and Jamaica. Every time I go somewhere new I use previous experiences to categorize new things. The jungle falls into a tropical (Jamaica) flatland (Mississippi). 15 minutes in we hit a No Tresspassing, Private Property sign. Go back 30 meters to a side trail (Trail 1b), but it just leads to a house. We push forward on Trail 1, pass the Do Not Enter sign. It is beautiful. Authentic jungle. A guy is working in a cleared field a ways off and we yell, Donde estas el camino para Baltimore? He just throws his arm in the direction of the trail, so we confidently continue on our way. We are singing and laughing. Positive vibes all around.
Over the next hour we pass numerous side trails. No signs. No anythings. Just occasionally the trail splits and a little side trail sneaks off to the right. A unanimous vote agrees to stay on the larger of the trails at each split. We had some disagreements earlier about this and that, and now that we´re out in the middle of nowhere I decide it be better if we are all on the same page. After 3 or 4 votes following more trail splits we start thinking, sure hope we´re on the right trail. Continue a bit further and then smack, dead end. We´ve just walked into a clearing with some previous logging activity. A giant tree is down, lots of wood shavings, but no trail to be found. Fun and games just turned into -- now what? The only option is to turn around. After 15 minutes of backtracking (So we backtracked a tad? a tad, a tad Lloyd, you drove almost a sixth of the way across the country, in the wrong direction! ), we hit one of the many sidetrails. Unanimous voting is going to be hard to come by, I figure. But I don´t want to just throw in the towel. I´m not one to give up on a hiking trail. Stubborn. Confident. Pretty good track record of getting from A to B. In order to convince the other 3 this is the trail I drop my bag (actually two bags, Elizabeth´s bag is piggy-backing my bag. As it turns out I also have a pretty good track record of being a porter. Ask Katy.), and tell the others I´m going to run down the trail for a bit to check it out. I run down the trail (if I´m not back in 5 minutes, just wait longer), we´ll call it Trail 2, and it looks legit. All the makings of a well trafficked trail. Foot prints, little bridges, motorcycle tracks. When I return we put the trail to the vote. Everyone is unsure. We know it´s going to be dark soon and the idea of sleeping in the jungle without any dinner is unnerving to all of us. No ice cream? No popcorn? Lessons learned in Primary kick in and we decide to say a prayer. Eli says a quick one, and we kind of agree to try Trail 2. Actually, Eli and I vote for Trail 2, Elizabeth says we should go back and Sarah is thinking to herself, How the hell did I end up lost in the Peruvian jungle with the Pratt´s listening to Dumb and Dumber all evening?
We walk for about 20 minutes, at which point I say, this is as far as I ran, I´m not making any more guarantees about trail quality. Not more than 15 more steps down the trail and we hit an intersection. This is not a little trail split, but a full on two trails cross each other at a pretty darn good 90 degree angle. An intersection. Let me introduce you to Trail 3, Trail 4 and Trail 5. Trail 3: go straight, continuing on the trail we are on. Trail 4: turn left at the intersection and Trail 5, turn right. Unanimous vote, stay straight and continue on Trail 3. (If you´re paying close attention, it´s not really a new trail, just the same trail going straight. But it took such deliberation to take it´s course it deserves to have its own name, hence Trail 3.) About 12 minutes down Trail 3. Abrupt dead end. Unnavigable jungle overgrowth. Turn around, back to the intersection. (Now we don´t have enough daylight to get to Baltimore, we don´t have enough daylight to get home, we don´t have enough daylight to eat, or even sleep!). At this point you can tell the girls want to call it quits. Some quick logical reasoning on my part (which later proves to be somewhat incorrect (no absolutes in the jungle)) says left is the only way to go. We need to get deeper into the jungle. In the event of again returning back on this trail, I decide we need to pull a Hansel and Gretel trick and leave a trailmarker. I´ve left a carribener hanging from a tree branch, and we´re just about to set off on Trail 4 when two folks coming wandering down Trail 5 towards us. A man and his wife. Actually, a mostly naked man and his wife. He´s only wearing underwear. Hmm. Just what I expected. God usually answers prayers with mostly naked slightly overweight Peruvians. Eli asks where we are, a conversation ensues, but then out of nowhere (the three of us tune out when Eli starts chatting, we´re really only interested in the final outcome of the conversation) Eli says, they said we could stay with them tonight, and they´ll point us in the right way in the morning. With no other options, and anxious to stop wandering we say yes, and follow them down Trail 4. By house they meant shelter. Two separates shelters, each constructed of half a dozen long poles (trees), and banana leaves as a roof. One for the kitchen, the other for sleeping. A small clearing where bananas and pineapple are growing. We are in the jungle. Nothing in any direction for miles. We caught them on their way home from the nearby water hole (shower) and luckily were at the intersection when they came down the trail. 2 or 3 minutes earlier or later and no dice. A nephew and a friend stay with them. They work in a nearby gold mine. Lots of machetes around the house, to keep away the snakes.
We set up the tent, which I think was as strange to them as the lean-to shelter was to us. In my broken, and I mean BROKEN Spanish, I tell them we have a magic house (the tent). It gets a couple laughs, always my goal. Dinner is rice, squash and some noodles. Pretty good. The girls sleep in the tent, Eli and I under the stars. Minor sticky leg, not too bad. 4am rolls around and Maria, the wife starts up the fire. Breakfast at 5:30am, rice and lentils, Pablo´s got clothes on this morning (the husband) and we get back on the trail at 7am. They take us back to the crossroads, and then down Trail 5. This trail has seen better days. We hit another intersection, and they tell us to go left, Trail 6. Just follow it straight, they say. It´s 2 hours down that trail to Baltimore. Great, we walked forever yesterday and made almost no progress. After 45 minutes, another dead end. We hit a small river, unpassable. Back track again (we´re in a hole, we´re just gonna have to dig ourselves out), and get on another sidetrail, Trail 7. Walk on that trail for about an hour. It gets scruffier and scruffier. Eventually we are jumping over trees, under brush, careful next to the mudhole. Then it hits all of us. What are we doing? This trail is just as bad as the last. We have no idea if we´re getting any closer. (Actually I think Elizabeth and Sarah have been thinking this the whole time, I´m just a little more determined). We sit down on some logs in the trail to rest, my shoulders are killing me, and I surrender. The jungle won. We came, we lost, we turned around. Defeat. Something I don´t take lightly. A very anticlimatic ending. Getting back was much easier, all the intersections were etched in our minds, and getting from Trail 7 back to Trail 1 wasn´t too bad. We finally made it out to the main road, after passing some strange guy on the trail with a rifle, and started the hitchiking process. Got picked up by the first car.
Ten hours later and still wondering: were we close? Did we even start in the right place? Who knows.
Grateful that Pablo and Maria came to the rescue. In the end, we had an authentic jungle experience. One that money can´t buy, only bad luck, getting lost and the generosity of two strangers.
On a completely different note, in downtown Puerto Maldonado tonight Eli was seen saying, I love you (multiple times) to a Peruvian cross dresser, while repeatedly whipping him on the butt in a strange demeaning/sexual way with a leather belt. A crowd of about 150 people looked on as the town celebrated their 110th anniversary. You should ask him about it sometime.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I like those lines. I like the woods. I like to travel. And I like taking the ¨other¨ path. However, for my present purposes, I would like to alter these three lines to fit our present situation. They should read as follows:
Seven trails crossed paths in the jungle, and I --
I tried all of them,
And it didn´t make any difference.
From the beginning. After Cusco our next, and unfortunately last, stop in Peru is Puerto Maldonado. It is in the jungle, at the intersection of the Madre de Dios and Tambopata Rivers. They both eventually empty into the Amazon and then the Atlantic Ocean. We decided to spend some money and fly the 45 minutes, in order to bypass the 17 hour bus ride. When you travel you either pay in money or time. With a couple days left in Peru, our time is more precious than our wallets.
Jungle lodges on the rivers charge $210 for a 3 day, 2 night stay. But we like doing things our own way. So, we decided on community homestays in the small village of Baltimore (not a bad town) on the Tambopata River. Two ways to get there, a boat (only leaves on Monday or Thursday) or an hour taxi ride, ask to get dropped off at km 37 and then a 2-3 hour walk through the jungle on a (usually the word a indicates something singular, as in one, right?) trail. Found a taxi driver, jumped in and we were off. Got to the trailhead at about 3:30 and started walking. Our driver recommended a guide, but arrogance and frugality (maybe a Nebeker trait? I don´t know) kicked in and we declined. We grabbed our bags and started down the trail. Had to move fast, dark around 6pm. Don´t want to get lost in the jungle.
Let´s call the trail we are on Trail 1 (this will make sense as the story goes on). The walk is beautiful. Large papaya plantations on the sides of this dirt road, banana trees etc. Typical jungle fauna. Actually, it is a strange cross of Mississippi and Jamaica. Every time I go somewhere new I use previous experiences to categorize new things. The jungle falls into a tropical (Jamaica) flatland (Mississippi). 15 minutes in we hit a No Tresspassing, Private Property sign. Go back 30 meters to a side trail (Trail 1b), but it just leads to a house. We push forward on Trail 1, pass the Do Not Enter sign. It is beautiful. Authentic jungle. A guy is working in a cleared field a ways off and we yell, Donde estas el camino para Baltimore? He just throws his arm in the direction of the trail, so we confidently continue on our way. We are singing and laughing. Positive vibes all around.
Over the next hour we pass numerous side trails. No signs. No anythings. Just occasionally the trail splits and a little side trail sneaks off to the right. A unanimous vote agrees to stay on the larger of the trails at each split. We had some disagreements earlier about this and that, and now that we´re out in the middle of nowhere I decide it be better if we are all on the same page. After 3 or 4 votes following more trail splits we start thinking, sure hope we´re on the right trail. Continue a bit further and then smack, dead end. We´ve just walked into a clearing with some previous logging activity. A giant tree is down, lots of wood shavings, but no trail to be found. Fun and games just turned into -- now what? The only option is to turn around. After 15 minutes of backtracking (So we backtracked a tad? a tad, a tad Lloyd, you drove almost a sixth of the way across the country, in the wrong direction! ), we hit one of the many sidetrails. Unanimous voting is going to be hard to come by, I figure. But I don´t want to just throw in the towel. I´m not one to give up on a hiking trail. Stubborn. Confident. Pretty good track record of getting from A to B. In order to convince the other 3 this is the trail I drop my bag (actually two bags, Elizabeth´s bag is piggy-backing my bag. As it turns out I also have a pretty good track record of being a porter. Ask Katy.), and tell the others I´m going to run down the trail for a bit to check it out. I run down the trail (if I´m not back in 5 minutes, just wait longer), we´ll call it Trail 2, and it looks legit. All the makings of a well trafficked trail. Foot prints, little bridges, motorcycle tracks. When I return we put the trail to the vote. Everyone is unsure. We know it´s going to be dark soon and the idea of sleeping in the jungle without any dinner is unnerving to all of us. No ice cream? No popcorn? Lessons learned in Primary kick in and we decide to say a prayer. Eli says a quick one, and we kind of agree to try Trail 2. Actually, Eli and I vote for Trail 2, Elizabeth says we should go back and Sarah is thinking to herself, How the hell did I end up lost in the Peruvian jungle with the Pratt´s listening to Dumb and Dumber all evening?
We walk for about 20 minutes, at which point I say, this is as far as I ran, I´m not making any more guarantees about trail quality. Not more than 15 more steps down the trail and we hit an intersection. This is not a little trail split, but a full on two trails cross each other at a pretty darn good 90 degree angle. An intersection. Let me introduce you to Trail 3, Trail 4 and Trail 5. Trail 3: go straight, continuing on the trail we are on. Trail 4: turn left at the intersection and Trail 5, turn right. Unanimous vote, stay straight and continue on Trail 3. (If you´re paying close attention, it´s not really a new trail, just the same trail going straight. But it took such deliberation to take it´s course it deserves to have its own name, hence Trail 3.) About 12 minutes down Trail 3. Abrupt dead end. Unnavigable jungle overgrowth. Turn around, back to the intersection. (Now we don´t have enough daylight to get to Baltimore, we don´t have enough daylight to get home, we don´t have enough daylight to eat, or even sleep!). At this point you can tell the girls want to call it quits. Some quick logical reasoning on my part (which later proves to be somewhat incorrect (no absolutes in the jungle)) says left is the only way to go. We need to get deeper into the jungle. In the event of again returning back on this trail, I decide we need to pull a Hansel and Gretel trick and leave a trailmarker. I´ve left a carribener hanging from a tree branch, and we´re just about to set off on Trail 4 when two folks coming wandering down Trail 5 towards us. A man and his wife. Actually, a mostly naked man and his wife. He´s only wearing underwear. Hmm. Just what I expected. God usually answers prayers with mostly naked slightly overweight Peruvians. Eli asks where we are, a conversation ensues, but then out of nowhere (the three of us tune out when Eli starts chatting, we´re really only interested in the final outcome of the conversation) Eli says, they said we could stay with them tonight, and they´ll point us in the right way in the morning. With no other options, and anxious to stop wandering we say yes, and follow them down Trail 4. By house they meant shelter. Two separates shelters, each constructed of half a dozen long poles (trees), and banana leaves as a roof. One for the kitchen, the other for sleeping. A small clearing where bananas and pineapple are growing. We are in the jungle. Nothing in any direction for miles. We caught them on their way home from the nearby water hole (shower) and luckily were at the intersection when they came down the trail. 2 or 3 minutes earlier or later and no dice. A nephew and a friend stay with them. They work in a nearby gold mine. Lots of machetes around the house, to keep away the snakes.
We set up the tent, which I think was as strange to them as the lean-to shelter was to us. In my broken, and I mean BROKEN Spanish, I tell them we have a magic house (the tent). It gets a couple laughs, always my goal. Dinner is rice, squash and some noodles. Pretty good. The girls sleep in the tent, Eli and I under the stars. Minor sticky leg, not too bad. 4am rolls around and Maria, the wife starts up the fire. Breakfast at 5:30am, rice and lentils, Pablo´s got clothes on this morning (the husband) and we get back on the trail at 7am. They take us back to the crossroads, and then down Trail 5. This trail has seen better days. We hit another intersection, and they tell us to go left, Trail 6. Just follow it straight, they say. It´s 2 hours down that trail to Baltimore. Great, we walked forever yesterday and made almost no progress. After 45 minutes, another dead end. We hit a small river, unpassable. Back track again (we´re in a hole, we´re just gonna have to dig ourselves out), and get on another sidetrail, Trail 7. Walk on that trail for about an hour. It gets scruffier and scruffier. Eventually we are jumping over trees, under brush, careful next to the mudhole. Then it hits all of us. What are we doing? This trail is just as bad as the last. We have no idea if we´re getting any closer. (Actually I think Elizabeth and Sarah have been thinking this the whole time, I´m just a little more determined). We sit down on some logs in the trail to rest, my shoulders are killing me, and I surrender. The jungle won. We came, we lost, we turned around. Defeat. Something I don´t take lightly. A very anticlimatic ending. Getting back was much easier, all the intersections were etched in our minds, and getting from Trail 7 back to Trail 1 wasn´t too bad. We finally made it out to the main road, after passing some strange guy on the trail with a rifle, and started the hitchiking process. Got picked up by the first car.
Ten hours later and still wondering: were we close? Did we even start in the right place? Who knows.
Grateful that Pablo and Maria came to the rescue. In the end, we had an authentic jungle experience. One that money can´t buy, only bad luck, getting lost and the generosity of two strangers.
On a completely different note, in downtown Puerto Maldonado tonight Eli was seen saying, I love you (multiple times) to a Peruvian cross dresser, while repeatedly whipping him on the butt in a strange demeaning/sexual way with a leather belt. A crowd of about 150 people looked on as the town celebrated their 110th anniversary. You should ask him about it sometime.
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