Illimani says...

CON--TIN--U--A--TION Blues*

2009-12-07T06:05:00.000-08:00

some folks say the Blues is just a slave song
but, I say that's just a lie
'cause even we where free, babe
lord knows, we still got to die

lovers still lie
babies still cry

las' time I saw my mama she said
son, take care of yourself
meaning, when it gets down/ to the nitty gritty
there ain't nobody else

ain't nobody else

ain't
nobody
else
babe/ sometimes I find I'm thinking
our troubles will never end
but when I wake up in the morning
I start out all over again

'cause I got to/ keep on pushing
got to/ keep on with the keeping on
God I/ hope someday were free
to sing our troubles with a different song

*This poem is the bastard child of an Emmanuel Knight admirer's foggy memory and a way cooler poem by (perhaps) the same name.

onwards and upwards

2009-11-25T08:00:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I changed my mind again. We should give Adam this website. Did you read his comment? It's completely true! And by 'completely true' I mean only the common sense usage of the words, ie he made a cursory mention of Sorata and left the details at arms length—there can be no argument.

Illi Says . . . IS a barren hell hole trapped in Creed's own prison with arms wide open and the backwards, undeveloped, indigenous memories of the 4guys' Bolivian shadows need a sure footed, neo-colonizational power to instill a driven, future oriented, death-or-advancement, foreign government that can properly transform the long ignored (out of ignorance) resources into the foundation for an industrious economy of hope and, with time, perhaps a benevolent e-empire.

This is how the stories of the world we've been thrown into work. Scott, you argued that some Native Americans somewhere still wished they owned Manhattan so we shouldn't give up our cyber domain gratuitously. But Adam mentioned Sorata, come on! Lets not forget that somewhere sometime some Native Americans got 26—count them t-w-e-n-t-y—s-i-x--shiny turquoise beads! Moreover, centuries later, the whole world got something in return for that deal: hip-hop music and the perfect setting for all the GhostBuster films.

Free trade=Win Win and Win Win!

Zero sums are for bums!

Adam as your personality in now an enigma, if you're ever bored, please feel free to take this online personality quiz.

1. T or F Sorata is located at the base of Illampu.

2. You're lost in the Andes at three in the morning, and wet from forging a river, so you lay down on some campensino's cement porch to sleep and Andy Baker tells you you got to keep moving because the owner will get angry and the situation might turn dangerous? What do you do?

A. fall asleep anyway, knowing full well that Andy only said those things because he thinks you're weak sauce for wanting a breather during a 30 hour hike and dream about what you'll order at Planet Pizza once your back in town

B. vomit (more like dry heave, really) from exhaustion, thus proving Baker's weak sauce theory to be true

3. Every time you eat soup you get more of it in you beard than in your mouth. What do you do?

A. shave

B. What do you mean what do I do? I don't see a problem.

C. clean it up with bread

D. mix some llajua in with it

E. put a magazine with pictures of naked women all through it on the top of the Baker's trash can

F. buy a monkey and shove it in a box

4. If you were on a team, would it be green, or better than green?

Gold Star

2009-11-18T06:28:00.000-08:00

I believe the beer of legend was called Weisbier, which in German means "Almost Jagermeister but Not Quite". It was either that or it was just an El Inca bottle with a Pacena label conveniently plastered over it, but maybe Jon remembers better then I do?

What I do know for certain is that it makes for a fun bus ride back to El Alto as the local drunks insist on speaking English while the out of town drunks insist on speaking German and occasionally Condor.

I also recall that at some point in that ride it got really hot, so hot that people needed to take their shirts off...

2009-11-17T00:23:00.000-08:00

There is no reason to assign blame or penance for the a fore mentioned actions. While the current blog may not be used as regularly as some in society may demand, it does not devalue it's importance. A treasured photo album or journal is not worth more or less by the number of times other people look at it, while at the same time I may watch a Chillies commercial signing "Baby-back Ribs" a thousands times but still not consider it a precious commodity (If that commercial reference is no longer up to date please feel free to inset what ever annoying commercial is now being played).

And Adam's failure to participate or "co-opt" the blog is not due to our selfishness (although we are likely selfish or at least self indulgent) but rather to his inability to engage the material presented to him in a meaningful and insightful manner, or at the very least make enough jokes to reassure us that Illimani says' integrity will be maintained if even under new leadership. Failing to do such it is our duty to reject any offer of co-optation (which seems less and less like an offer and more like a demand...like when Germany co-opted France a while back) and to once again begin the inane task of writing our opinions for all the world to share in.

With that in mind I think we should all just start using this blog like one big mass email only with no set number of the people we have to individually respond to. Or at the very least spend the next two weeks making enjoyable references to a number of inside jokes and funny moments that have to do with Bolivia.

Either way I am happy to see you again Illimani...I wonder what secrets you hold inside you right now?

up to our words

2009-11-14T02:07:00.000-08:00

So, I went and promised to give this website to someone. And then, when two of the other original 4guys contested, rather promptly, that that might not be the best idea, I was stunned--only because these two individuals never ever agree about anything thing unless the matter at hand is unquestionable.

e.g.
Motorcycles are sweet (metaphorically).

El Inca is sweet (literally).

So it appears that the transfer of Illimani Says . . . is unquestionably out of the question.

For purposes of near-full disclosure, I will post the near-entirety of the offer I'm now rescinding.

hi

you asked for our web address here on blog spot

I'd be more than happy to speak for the other 3 blog slackers that haven't posted in over 3 years and give it to you

but you have to explain how I do that; and please understand your dealing with a technological numb-skull, I know more expressions in Aymara than computer terms.

if you haven't left the states yet, and your mid-west location is anywhere near central Kentucky (or you have any connections with that part of the world--be they friendly or belligerent) you must, absolutely MUST, purchase (or have connections purchase) a six pack of Ale-8-One (bottles) for Baker--it's a mystical carbonated beverage known only by the chosen

I already know your outrage at this brainless suggestion made by a stranger and the firm tone used to make it:

"bottled liquids on a plane!?!?! that's precious weight! and bulk! I could use for Wende!l Berry books and therma! underwear!!! and it'll have to go with the hold luggage, so won't it get all shaken up and ruined anyway!!!! look here, you weird person on the internet!!! I have to prepare for starting a new life in a foreign country and you want be make a trip to Kentucky!!!!!"

reasons to take my terrible, unsolicited advice anyway:

1. all bottled beverages fizz uncontrollably in El Alto even if they haven't been tossed around by baggage handlers

2. the best gifts have mountains of thought and effort behind them and minimal if any usefulness in front of them

3. no one ever regrets bringing a house warming gift, and nothing warms a chilly apartment floor like the sticky fizzy runoff of fresh a Ale8one

4. all people before you (myself included) ended up bringing things they didn't need to Bolivia

5. ya pues

6. there is no reason number six

7. anyone who knows Uncle Lee knows there is no better reason for a road trip to KY

but, if you can find no way to purchase this luxury item, go ahead and take any tiny, pliable, light weight, shatterproof gift you want, EXCEPT a water balloon launcher!!! (they only lead to trouble)

The blogastratusphere will be my confessor. You now know the words I've broken, what is a suitable penance?

- spending the night is a cave with millions of spiders
- hand sewing a five person hammock
- tying myself to a tree and tangling myself to the point I can't move
- trying to use rational arguments to convince Mike from New York that he is just as close minded as those he accuses of being closed minded
- six weeks of sleeping on sacks of chunyos in the Altiplano
- signing a statement of faith/ community contract
- become an out of work ESL teacher
- blogging about my personal opinions
- or what have you

medicated

2006-03-28T11:55:00.001-08:00

The head pounding set in Saturday evening. I knew something was coming, my whole body felt warm with a slight ache. Sunday and Monday are a complete blur. I didn't leave the apartment, I didn't eat, and my thoughts quickly became sporadic and non-sensical. I cursed the juice company Tampico for profiting off my illness. Eventually, it was only slipping and sliding: slipping in and out of consiousness and sliding blanket-wrapped across the floor trying keep myself in the slanted rectangles of the sun's afternoon window-rays.

The sun set and I was irrationally concerned that I would be unable to warm myself through the night. I needed to call someone! tell them that I wasn't thinking straight, that I was vomiting, and that I felt like crying. After maybe thirty minutes I managed to located the keys and proper change. But then I thought about having to walk all the way outside and around the corner to the phone, would anything be worth that! I chose to stay inside and mumble. "I can't breathe" "I can't go to the campo" "My eye's will turn yellow" "I won't have health to go to France" "I'll never see Africa again."

restless night

This morning Wes was home and I was awake for the first time. I told him about this headache.

He gave me a green pill.

With my glasses off I sat and watched the clear-day, bright-brick colors of El Alto jump in and out of the window. I watched Wes play legos with the Baker's trilingual child: english, spanish, and three-year-old speech (a language that is rarely directed toward any one person, completely devoid of vocabulary and syntax but amazingly expressive by means of intonation alone).

Within the hour my brain felt no pain.

I posited a scientific theory. The green pill probably made my heart beat a little faster than it needed, sending excess oxygen to my head, numbing and buzzing the pain centers of my brain . . . or somesuch tumbling of physiologic dominos. But I quickly rejected it. The remedy must have been those thoughts of loved ones induced by child's play and sun colors.

The always consistant arc of Dave Weber's smile.

The broad stance and non-self-confidence confidence of Ethan Van Drunen giving smiles in exchange for life promotions.

Doug Harbin's genuine enthusiasm and child-like fascination with the bassoon.

My sister with bones loose in their skin, swept up in the current, sharing time and washing dishes.

uummm...

2006-03-07T08:28:00.000-08:00

Bush in India: Just Not Welcome
by Arundhati Roy

On his triumphalist tour of India and Pakistan, where he hopes to wave imperiously at people he considers potential subjects, President Bush has an itinerary that's getting curiouser and curiouser.

For Bush's March 2 pit stop in New Delhi, the Indian government tried very hard to have him address our parliament. A not inconsequential number of MPs threatened to heckle him, so Plan One was hastily shelved. Plan Two was to have Bush address the masses from the ramparts of the magnificent Red Fort, where the Indian prime minister traditionally delivers his Independence Day address. But the Red Fort, surrounded as it is by the predominantly Muslim population of Old Delhi, was considered a security nightmare. So now we're into Plan Three: President George Bush speaks from Purana Qila, the Old Fort.

Ironic, isn't it, that the only safe public space for a man who has recently been so enthusiastic about India's modernity should be a crumbling medieval fort?

Since the Purana Qila also houses the Delhi zoo, George Bush's audience will be a few hundred caged animals and an approved list of caged human beings, who in India go under the category of "eminent persons." They're mostly rich folk who live in our poor country like captive animals, incarcerated by their own wealth, locked and barred in their gilded cages, protecting themselves from the threat of the vulgar and unruly multitudes whom they have systematically dispossessed over the centuries.

So what's going to happen to George W. Bush? Will the gorillas cheer him on? Will the gibbons curl their lips? Will the brow-antlered deer sneer? Will the chimps make rude noises? Will the owls hoot? Will the lions yawn and the giraffes bat their beautiful eyelashes? Will the crocs recognize a kindred soul? Will the quails give thanks that Bush isn't traveling with Dick Cheney, his hunting partner with the notoriously bad aim? Will the CEOs agree?

Oh, and on March 2, Bush will be taken to visit Gandhi's memorial in Rajghat. He's by no means the only war criminal who has been invited by the Indian government to lay flowers at Rajghat. (Only recently we had the Burmese dictator General Than Shwe, no shrinking violet himself.) But when Bush places flowers on that famous slab of highly polished stone, millions of Indians will wince. It will be as though he has poured a pint of blood on the memory of Gandhi.

We really would prefer that he didn't.

It is not in our power to stop Bush's visit. It is in our power to protest it, and we will. The government, the police and the corporate press will do everything they can to minimize the extent of our outrage. Nothing the happy newspapers say can change the fact that all over India, from the biggest cities to the smallest villages, in public places and private homes, George W. Bush, the President of the United States of America, world nightmare incarnate, is just not welcome.

[Arundhati Roy, the Booker Prize-winning author of 'The God of Small Things' and 'The Ordinary Person's Guide to Empire', lives in New Delhi, India.]

Heather, I coming back

2006-03-06T16:29:00.000-08:00

Feeling Fucked Up

Lord she's gone done left me done packed / up and split
and I with no way to make her
come back and everywhere the world is bare
bright bone white crystal sand glistens
dope death dead dying and jiving drove
her away made her take her laughter and her smiles
and her softness and her midnight sighs -

Fuck Coltrane and music and clouds drifting in the sky
fuck the sea and trees and the sky and birds
and alligators and all the animals that roam the earth
fuck marx and mao fuck fidel and nkrumal and
democracy and communism fuck smack and pot
and red ripe tomatoes fuck joseph fuck mary fuck
god jesus and all the disciples fuck fanon nixon
and malcolm fuck the revolution fuck freedom fuck
the wole muthafucking thing
all i want now is my woman back
so my soul can sing

a post

2005-02-10T14:26:00.000-08:00

so i wish i had something good to say...but i really don't. i feel obligated to any readers of this blog to at least post SOMETHING since it's been so long. so here it goes...

Brent- living at 5,000 feet in Denver suburbs.
Scott- living at close to sea level in Chicago suburbs.
Drew- living at 14,000 feet in the campos of the Altiplano
Me- living at everything between 12,000 feet and 14,000 feet in either La Paz or El Alto

i'm sorry to all the readers who want to hear something from Drew, the Yurt song-singer, but you'll just have to deal with me.

And that's all for now.

more to come.

Illimani says...

2005-01-25T12:57:00.000-08:00

I just watched Tad win Elimidate, can anyone else confirm this?

El Alto Article

2005-01-14T11:18:00.000-08:00

http://www.miami.com/mld/miamiherald/10471814.htm?1c

2005-01-14T02:33:00.000-08:00

getting ready to climb up to drop into copper bowl. the snow was so fresh.

Because you miss the dog more

2005-01-14T02:29:00.000-08:00

Because you miss the dog more...
Because you miss the dog more

rambling.

2005-01-08T09:14:00.000-08:00

Things to learn

2004-12-14T06:51:00.000-08:00

Christmas is aproaching and we are still not sure how to send a Llama by mail...we have no doubt that it will make the perfect Christmas gift, but logistics once again get in that way. Have no fearthough, we will quickly remedy this problem and all of you can expect your llama in time for the holiday!

"El Mono"

2004-12-13T15:06:00.000-08:00

ok so this probably isn't my short story to tell...but i'm on the computer, and have no more immediate e-mails to write, so...

i just got vaccinated for Rabies, and my arm is kind of hurting where i was given the shot. i wasn't going to get the vaccination until Drew and Brent told me what happens with Rabies....which is that you start foaming at the mouth and then can't drink water and then.....die. They got vaccinated earlier in the day, so i decided to go ahead and take the precaution...mostly because i don't want to experience the foaming at the mouth and have that period where i KNOW that death is imminent. It would kind of be one of those "oh crap" periods, that i wish to avoid at almost all costs.

the question boils down to: why did we all have to get these shots?

Drew bought a monkey (un Mono) off of the street yesterday. It really likes to be on people and sleep on people. And if you try to take it off of you when it doesn't want to get off, sometimes it decides to bite you. Anyways, I got bitten, Drew got bitten, and Brent got bitten. Scott didn't.

we found out it's illegal to have a monkey. so when i was being asked how i got bitten by a monkey at the vaccination place...i told them it was a crazy street monkey in El Alto (un mono loco en los calles del Alto). The guy seemed suspicious, and continued to ask me questions, but i stuck to my story that i was walking along in the street, and out of nowhere a monkey ran up, bit me on the hand, and ran away. i'm sure there were grammatical errors as i told this story, but the guys seemed to understand it all, and just kind of gave me this look. i lied to protect the monkey, and Drew who bought the monkey. Anything for the monkey...

we have to go back for a shot tomorrow, wednesday, thursday, and friday....five shots in all. we think the monkey is clean, but only time can tell.

levt arm is limp...

El Dia De Accion De Gracias---Chile Style

2004-12-09T16:06:00.000-08:00

Our weekend in Chile had its moments. And I use the word moments in loosest of terms, being everywhere has moments, as time and space HAVE to have moments. There were 8 of us to start: Sarah, a girl from Tariha, Bolivia. Rachel, the 2nd grade teacher. Danielle, the 6th and 7th grade teacher. South American Danielle, who is Danielle’s sister here in Bolivia. And finally, Drew, Scott, Brent, and myself, who are the current owners of this Blog-site.

So the details are as follows:

Moment 1: Danielle and the Bolivian Danielle didn’t get to go. Before we left, American Danielle got her bag stolen at the Bus terminal, which had her passport and money and camera and clothes and everything, basically, that she needed for the trip. Chile is one of those countries that requires passports at the border, so she had to stay back in La Paz. Naturally, the other Danielle, had to stay back with her (by virtue of having the same name). It was quite weird leaving 2 friends behind, but it had to be done. We had a destination.

Moment 2: Our bus-ride was extremely quite. No one wanted to say something insensitive to the person “partially” responsible for the losing of Danielle’s bag. This person reads our blog, so again, I have to be careful not to say anything insensitive. You can make your guessesof who it was, though, because we’d love to hear them.

Moment 3: We drove by Volcan Sajama, the highest mountain in Bolivia stretching to about 6,500 meters. During this time, Rachel was reading a magazine in Spanish and decided to translate EVERYTHING that had any sort of humor to us in English. She had good intentions, but we were driving past SAJAMA at the moment.

Moment 4: Arica, our destination in Chile which is on the coast, turned out to be sort of in the desert. The city itself was a little bit nicer, but if you looked anywhere to the north, south, or east, it just looked like desert. This desert “es el desierto mas seco en todo del mundo”. I think it’s called the Atacama desert, and it only rains there about twice a year, maybe less.

Moment 5: The four of us guys slept on the beach, and played a lot of Frisbee. It was relaxing, and a perfect temperature.

Moment 6, 7, and 8: I don’t want anyone to get in trouble, and I don’t know exactly who reads this, but let’s just say these were some good moments.

Moment 8: Someone, and I don’t want to mention their name, played a round or two or three of Black Jack at the Arica Casino. This person, won a round or two or three at the table, and left with enough money to pay for a day or two or three, or the whole trip. I know, it’s disappointing to hear that someone was gambling, but it has to be said.

Moment 9: The girls got a bit boring, so we decided to leave the city of Arica (the only real way of escaping them) and head out to the east of Sajama and camp somewhere. This area is also desert and super dry.

Moment 10: Drew needed to go to the bathroom on the bus, so he went. It was a number 2, in the back, a good distance from us. Immediately, the guy who serves the food and takes care of the people, came up to Drew in a very serious tone and told him the toilet in the back of the bus is only for peeing. You could tell he was really upset at Drew. Drew said something about how there should be a sign then. The bus driver said no sign is needed, the only thing that is needed is for a person to use their head a little. Drew sat there quietly as he lectured him. He finally left after a few minutes of this. Then after a few more minutes, he returned to lecture him again, only to leave again, and then return one more time…and then leave.

Moment 11: We asked the bus driver to let us out when he started through this canyon-type area. He was a bit surprised and told us that there was nothing here. No food, lodging, or anything. We told him that it was perfect.

Moment 12: We found the most gorgeous spot in the canyon. We climbed up to the top, and had a great view of Sajama and the twin peaks directly behind it. Brent climbed up a rock wall to get to the top, as the rest of us found a little bit easier of routes, by-passing the ever so dangerous top of the canyon. We set up camp in a little dried up stream that was all sand, and made a fire and ate all of the food that we had brought (mostly Scott’s). There was a native that walked by us earlier and told us not to go to far down the canyon (about 6K) because it is a place where people go crazy, and return crazy. At least that’s what I understood from what he was telling us. He also told us of a Donkey/Ass that wanders this area who has the head of a woman. We stayed away from the area that makes people go crazy, and unfortunately never saw the donkey that looks like a woman. Those would have been moments 13 and 14. Instead,

Moment 13: We waited on the side of the road for 3 hours, in a desert, trying to get a ride back to El Alto. No one would pick us up. Finally a min-bus did.

Well, that was our trip. Not nearly as exciting as I had hoped for, but extremely relaxing. It was a good way to spend thanksgiving break. I could tell the difference between Chile and Bolivia right away. I could tell we were no longer in a 3rd world country. It was a minor difference compared to how we live our lives back in the states, but it dawned on me again how hard it will be to adjust back to the conveniences that the states have to offer. I don’t want to adjust back, but I can only imagine that time in the states will change me as the hustle of American life causes a stress that I wish to never return to. The issue of poverty, while still apparent in the states, still finds a way to haunt me daily here as the gap between rich and poor is gigantic, and the idea of the middle class seems to be missing altogether. All I can do is to pray that my time here will be a part of me that never leaves, regardless of the pressures that American society will soon throw at me.

Question of this Blog: Who do you think was partially responsible for the loss of Danielle’s bag and utter destruction of her thanksgiving weekend?

Picture Perfect

2004-12-02T14:30:00.000-08:00

You know its a good day when you walk home and you have to walk around a Lama to get in your door!

helping out where I can

2004-11-24T13:13:00.000-08:00

today I went down to Jon´s school to help his 3rd 4th and 5th graders.

their parents were coming to a Thanksgiving program - one of those things that lets parents look at their children on stage and take pictures

we sang a song.

it was an original

and highly specific to the occasion, so few of the lyrics would have meaning here on our WeBlog

but I feel this verse is worthy of Illimani says . . .

when authority is heavy
drawin lines in the sand
just say no to oppression
and stick it to the man

the kids loved it
some of the parents are still working on English

Question

2004-11-19T13:30:00.000-08:00

Drew, how does your sleeping bag smell?

So now what

2004-11-17T13:48:00.000-08:00

Well Thanksgiving is just around the corner...for most people back in the US that means lots of turkey, stuffing, and all that other good stuff...but not for 4 Guys at 14,000ft, for us it means time for another adventure!

As everyone state side is sitting down for the feast we should be crossing the border of Chile as we race towards the Pacific coast for a few days of camping and relaxing...¨relaxing¨ you say...well we need to build up strength because after that we are going to spend a few days hiking around Sajama (the highest Mt. in Bolivia) and trying to find some hotspings that are out in the desert so we can take a dip.

Yea so all in all life is good...always an adventure on the horizon!

mindless rambling

2004-11-13T11:36:00.000-08:00

So in question to day is the exact defintion of terrorism...most seem to paint some type of picture of Arab men planting bombs or taking over airplanes, but lets try to get more specific. Terrorism is the attack of civilians in order to accomplish political aims. This is usually carried out by people or groups who are not offical nation states (although many want to be, and some would claim to be) Ok this defintion seems sound, but in reality what does being a nation state have to do with anything...does the fact that US forces are responsible for what now appears to be well of 40,000 civilian deaths in Iraq (for lastest figures chreck this weeks Economist) qualify it for the postion of greatest terrorist threat. Were do we draw this ambigious gray line, claiming one act a just act of war, with some unfortunate casulties, and the other act is evil and totally unjust.

Maybe there{s not an easy answer, one mans terrorism is anothers just war...but maybe we as a colective whole should take a step back and think about this question for a bit longer before we make our next move

picture of the summit

2004-11-02T13:23:00.000-08:00

www.vic.com/bolivia/images/huayna_potosi/summit.jpg

the story...

2004-11-02T04:59:00.000-08:00

i'm not the story teller of the group, as that position obviously belongs to Scott, but i will try to give the account of climbing Huayna Potosi in the most detail that i can.

Set-Up
- Our group consisted of 11 people. the four of us, a guy from portugal who was with his girlfriend from England, 2 girls from Switzerland, 1 girl from Austria, and 2 guys from Canada. The most imporant thing you need to recognize is the couple.
- Huayna Potosi is a 6,088 meter mountain, or about 20,000 feet. The tallest mountain in the states, excluding Alaska, is in California and is just over 14,000 feet.
- Scott, Drew, Brent, and I have never climbed a mountain needing technical equipment.

Saturday Morning- We met the guides, and the other 7 climbers, in La Paz where we got some of the gear that we would need such as ice pics, boots, crampons (spikes for boots), harnesses, rain gear, etc. We then left for Huayna.

Saturday Afternoon- We went into some of the glaciers at the base of the mountain to practice climbing on ice walls. It went well, as all four of us could do it without much problem. It was about this time that we found out that 2 of the other people in our group of 11 were very interesting. The two people that i am speaking of is the couple (the guy from Portugal and the girl from England). The girl could not get more than 4 feet up the ice wall without crying, and the guy was smoking cigarettes on the half hour. Last we checked, complete oxygen consumption at 6,000 meters is necessary for Sanity.

Saturday Night- We returned from our practice in the glaciers, and hung out in the Refugio with the other people, most of whom were fun.

Sunday Morning- Got up, had breakfast, and packed our stuff. At about 11:30 we headed up to High Camp with our guides. At about 12:00, clouds rolled in, and started pelting us with this hard snow type of material. i would say it was hail, but i really think it was just snow that hurt. The group quickly split into two groups on the hike; those that were ready to climb, and those that smoked and were scared of heights. The High Camp is at an altitude of about 5,200 meters.

Sunday Afternoon- We had lunch, and then were supposed to go to bed at about 6pm because we were getting up at 12 am to start our climb, at night, when the snow and ice is more frozen. The problem turned out to be going to sleep. For one, we had to fit 10 of us into a Yurt, that was probably meant for maybe 5. We were packed.

Sunday Night- At about 9pm, None of us had fallen to sleep yet, but were starting to get tired. Then all of a sudden Brent and I hear A.J, the smoker with the girlfriend who's scared of heights, say he feels like he's going to pass out. Next his girlfriend starts to panick because he is no longer moving. Brent calmly at this point tells her to relax as he tells her he'll check his pulse (more of an antagonizing move than a calming move). From there, i could not tell you what happens, other than that AJ goes crazy. He says he can't breathe well, and keeps on making strange noises, that don't make any sense. Scott went and got the guides out of the tent, and they suggest that he be taken back down in altitude. A.J., however, refuses, as he is saying crazy stuff how that will be worse for him because his body hasn't acclimatized to the temperature, and how he can't move his legs due to something he calls frolic acid, and how he shouldn't drink water because it causes swelling in the brain at this altitude, and how his back is having spazims. I suggest it's because of de-hydration, and that he can move his legs, while Brent tells him he has one of two options; drink water, or go down in Altitude. Of course he is not coherent enough to understand anything. His Problem: He's insane. And he smokes while climbing a mountain. And he doesn't believe in drinking water.

Monday Morning: Brent and i never actually fell asleep, so we got up at 12:00 and starting putting on all of our gear which takes at least a half hour. This was the day of all the ice climbing and snow, so we had to put on a lot. The guides and everyone else got up at about 12:30. Obviously, A.J., and his girlfriend, did not get up to climb, as an extra guide had come up to high camp to help them down. one of the Canadians, Oliver, decided also not to climb at this point. We left High Camp at about 1:30am in 3 different groups. Brent and I were with a guide. Drew and Scott were with a guide. And then the other Canadian, and the girl from Austria, and a swiss girl were in another group with a guide. It was a full moon so we didn't need our head lamps very much. At about 2:30, we found out that the Austrian had dropped out. At about 3:00, we climbed our first big ice wall. At about 4:00 my headache worsened. At about 4:45, we came up on the final ascent to the summit..... IT WAS MASSIVE. It was about a 200 meter ice wall, i'de say about 60 degrees, or more. 45 minutes later, we hit the summit, having reached it in only 4 hours from the high camp, tying the record for the guide agency by any tourists.

The Summit: It was breathtaking. It basically went up to a point, and then dropped off the other side onto the East Face of the mountain. Scott thought it rounded off, and went up extremely fast, almost going over the other side, which would have been an easy death for him and everyone attatched to him.

We have pictures, and will try to attatch them a little later. Of the 11 people with us, only 6 summited the mountain. The four of us, a Canadian, and a swiss girl. Thanks for your prayers, we all arrived back safely.

-4 Guys @ 20,000

dual name

2004-10-29T13:59:00.000-07:00

some may wish to refer to my ice pick as "heat",
but i've come to know it more as "the melter".

snow doesn't stand a chance against it. and because it doesn't stand a chance, i don't stand a chance against the ice wall. ironic, you say? possibly.

Here to Survive!

2004-10-29T13:20:00.000-07:00

Off to climb Huyana Potosi this weekend, we will let you all know what 20,000ft looks like when we get back...we should be getting down the mountian right about the time some old people in florida decide the fate of the world...we made sure to put plunty of ¨hanging chads¨ on our ballots just to make sure things don´t go to smoothly!

Hope everyone enjoys the absurdity of election weekend, hopefully the chaos won´t follow us to the top, i don´t think beauty and politics mix.

Our Ice Picks Names Are:
Brent-Che
Drew-Walden
Scott-Thunder Dragon
Jon-Heat

Well thats all from 4 guys soon to be at 20,000ft, don´t forget to get out and vote, its important!

peace

2004-10-28T10:06:00.000-07:00

Speaking from above

2004-10-28T10:04:00.000-07:00

Good times

People From Peru

2004-10-25T10:17:00.001-07:00

So WMF Peru decided to drop down for a visit...i think they´re a bit bummed their living in Lima and not in El Alto, but that's to be expected.

Planning on climbing Huyana Potosi this coming weekend, some people say the season is over, but we say say that there is no season at 6088m...wish us luck!

Ethan, i think most everyone should be in the area (and by area i mean spooning with you in the yurt) summer of 2005, see you there!

People From Peru

2004-10-25T10:17:00.000-07:00

Good Words

2004-10-23T07:31:00.000-07:00

"To develop understanding you have to practice looking at all human beings with the eyes of compassion. When you understand, you love. And when you love, you naturally act in a way that can relieve the suffering of people."~Thich Nhat Hanh

Hasta el Maximo

2004-10-19T15:26:00.000-07:00

After an eternity of trekking through deep mud we recognized the stream flowing out into the carrue, and almost immediately the trees disappeared and we reached the flat. The huge figure of a stag dashed like a quick breath across the stream and his body, silver by the light of the rising moon, disappeared into the undergrowth. The tremor of nature cut straight to our hearts. We walked slowly so as not to disturb the peace of the wild sanctuary with with we were now communing.
-Ernesto Guevara

why Peru is not Blogtastic!

2004-10-18T14:45:00.000-07:00

So the 4 Guys (and these two girls) were like ¨lets hike into Peru via the lake that sounds like a joke i told in 3rd grade.¨ And so with that thought, and the thought of clown´ in Peru, the intrepid travelers set off to shores unknow...little did they know these shores would be kind of ugly and expensive to get to...

so 4 hours of hiking later they made it to the border, this was of course a slight let down seeing as how Peru pretty much looked like Bolivia only a bit drier and simply not as cool, but they were not dismayed (although in hindsight being dismayed and turning around and heading back to our beloved Bolivia would not have been a bad idea) so the fearless 4 (and two extra girls) head towards Peru (via Tuk Tuk) soon discovering that Soles (currency in Peru) were a rip off and the best thing was the Inca Cola that was kinda a cross with a bananna and cream soda. but never defeated the 4 Guys (and these 2 girls) made it to the beach where they quickly discovered an ever approaching rain storm....

to be continued...mostly becasue i am bored with typing and my time is up on the computer!!!

peace

Life Statement

2004-10-15T13:26:00.000-07:00

We are not here to live...we are here to survive!
-Jon Watson-

The True Secret

2004-10-11T10:41:00.000-07:00

Huayna Potosi is the mountian that holds the secrets of all men

Does this work

2004-10-11T10:25:00.000-07:00

Scott: Drew man, what have we done

Drewman: I think thigs is a blogg...which means we have totally sold out!

Scott: Yea...can we run away

Drewman: I don´t give a Blogg!!!

Scott: This is freak´n blogg´n me out

Drewman: Blogg to your mama!