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Amazon, OIlantaytambo, Colca Canyon, Pacasmay and About

Amazon, OIlantaytambo, Colca Canyon, Pacasmay and About

Old Apr 25th, 2016, 02:26 AM
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Arequipa at about 5 am, and today I fly to Trujillo. With luck I can get caught up on the week's adventures and provide some information on my tour guides.

I wish dearly that I could report that I'm well but I'm not, suffice it to say that the doctor in Cusco commented that whatever I got might have morphed into "something else' which is likely. After three hefty rounds of antibiotics I am still beset with getting up every 90 minute to hit the loo, which is costly in terms of getting one's rest, and hilarious in terms of trying to have a damned adventure. I look forward to Western medicine when I get home but in the meantime have done my best to be stoic about it and remind those around me that right now there's not a damned thing to be done.

Now there's a funny story to be had here at the Cusco airport, at least if you have my sense of humor. Very early, and I mean the five am kind of early, I had to be in line for check in. By the time I got my luggage through I was, given my condition, desperate for a break, and asked around,. I found the loo, and found a seat, as it were. Took care of business. Given that time of morning, ahem, a lot of it. All righty then. I look around. NO TP. You're joking. Right? No. Okay. So now (and thank GOD I was alone in there) I have to duck walk around through three stalls in search of the Holy Grail of fresh toilet paper. There is none.

You've got to be kidding me.

Okay. Back up plan.

NO Paper towels either. AUGH!

You've REALLY got to be kidding me.

And I have a plane to catch not long from now.

At this point the only thing going for me was that in the handicapped stall there was a sink and soap, thank god for small favors. Natch, soon as I am done, in comes the cleaning crew.

YES I travel with a roll of TP, and I had just sent it packing in the belly of the plane.

That said I landed in lovely Arequipa for the first time on the 18th and found my way to the very old part of town which houses the monastery and the Plaza de Armas. The mountains are quite visible from here, the streets all cobblestone, the buildings picturesque and cold at night.. I had chosen a hostel called Calle de Jerusalen which was popular on TA, which I am finding doesn't always track. I don't seem to agree with a lot of my fellow reviewers,. In this case the place put me into a tiny, dank, smelly room across a sunny and right pretty courtyard from the communal bathroom. Problem was, again, given my condition, that every time I went to use said toilet someone was in it. Not a good situation. Besides, my room stank badly of mold. Who gives such places high ratings?

Well, not one to give up easily, I asked to be moved to a room with a toilet. The young man who was on duty later who spoke English did try to please, and he said that a room existed downstairs.

Given that I had extra gear for my adventure travel that meant some schlepping, no worries. But this also meant no wifi, which for me as a writer was not good. It also led to a fight. Not a big one, but here's what I mean. The shower in this new big room, and it was big, and it smelled better (but looked out onto construction junk) didn't have hot water. Here's the thing. If I am on Everest, I can expect limited hot water. But not in a city like Arequipa.. So when I climbed in to wash my hair and the water was three degrees above icy, somewhere around, oh slightly, tepid, I leapt back out and went to the manager. Who proceeded downstairs, felt the water and argued with me.

Bad move.

It doesn't have to be boiling. However, it does need to bleed color from a tea bag. Like steam a little. And arguing with your paying guest is just not good form. He did finally turn the heat up, and I was able to wash the hair (which is no small thing since it is a rug that falls all the way down to my butt and takes a considerable effort to wash).

I was about to spend five days in very remote parts of Colca Canyon with a horse outfitter. So I headed over to Peru Adventures to meet Saul Ceron, who had kindly finally (and not without some convincing through a mutual friend) agreed to set up the trip. I'd contacted this outfit, which has some very good reviews, and Saul had flatly turned me down. Honestly this happens all the time due to age discrimination or because people have their own ideas about what women can do or any number of things. However my dear friend Jorge Coburn, whom I'd met before and after I'd climbed Kilimanjaro a few years back was kind enough to write Saul for me and (since Jorge has worked in the Peruvian tourist industry) help Saul understand I wasn't a crank. After Jorge's email, Saul had sent me an itinerary that perfectly met my hopes, and I couldn't wait. We would be riding around 6-8 hours a day, I had a guide who spoke English to accompany me. The whole trip would be in parts of the canyon where most tourists never travelled.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 02:43 AM
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Now I've not yet gathered all my notes from this riding trip, so that may take some time for I'd like to do it real justice. Let me put it this way. Wilbert Malaga, who runs a horse outfit in the Canyon, is about the best riding guide I've had the pleasure to work with. I rode my ass off from dawn til dusk, was up at 4 am to go help him get the horses, brush and saddle, we rode some damned dangerous and gorgeous trails, hiked so high the condors (nine at one point) soared below us. On the third day Wilbert let me ride his guide horse. Now I should say here this often happens- but it is always earned. I ask for a horse with spirit and energy, but in particular in South America, the men simply do not take your riding skills seriously. You can claim anything you like, but the unfortunate history is that clients claim skills they don't have. Given the difficulty of the trails you cannot trust a client with a more challenging animal- and in this case it was black Paso named Capicioso. High strung, nervous, and previously abused, this horse was being trained and rehabilitated by Wilbert for trail work. I wanted badly to ride him. Day three I got the chance.

Let me preface this by explaining that I ride four times a week in Colorado and my trainers put me on green horses - and barn sour horses that buck, shy, kick and back up. These are the horses that other riders cannot ride. I ride them to get them ready to for beginners and intermediate riders. So I am not afraid of, or intimidated by nervous, frustrated, abused or otherwise unpredictable animals. I have had my share. I've been thrown, tossed, bounced and bitten, and I don't blame the animal. What's key is that it's my job to stay calm, always talk to the horse, place your hands on it in a calm and loving way, and be absolutely consistent with it so that it learns that you aren't going to surprise or hurt it. Otherwise it continues to be uncertain and unpredictable. Of course I can tell Saul this, I can tell Wilbert this, but until Wilbert sees me ride and watches his horse respond to me over the course of a few days, it's just talk.

Capricioso and I had a wonderful ride. He was a calm, easy, collected animal, and he gave me an amazing experience.. And he even stopped trying to bite me- and allowed me to scrub his face under his halter where he got sweaty. Very small but significant wins.

The inns where we stayed (with one exception) had no hot water or heat. This also led to some hilarity, as at times given the long long days in the saddle one aches for some hot water. At one point I got so chilled (it came on very suddenly when the sun went down one night ) that I had to grab the blanket off a couch to stop the chills and my guide Jarly had to rush me to my hotel room where we heaped piles of blankets over my head. That didn't save me from icy trips to the toilet where I must have left several layers of skin on the toilet seat.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 03:03 AM
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Our first night (and I don't care that this is out of order) we were so high- in fact the entire trip was down at above ten thousand feet) we were at a tiny town known for its stone work. The proprietor had a pet llama named Aguilar who slept in a corral next door. When I got up inevitably at 4 am, I had on headlamp and was walking by. Aguilar rushed me, intensely curious about this thing with a light on its head. I stopped, and stuck my face out while Aguilar inspected my face, neck, nose, cheeks, eyes, everything with its delicate nose. It nearly wrapped its long neck around me. I wish I'd had my camera but the light was too dim. It allowed me to scratch it, clearly a new experience for this creature, and it leaned into the feeling. We stood there like that inspecting each other for some time until my hands were too cold to move any more, and I had to escape back into the relative warmth of the rooms.

Most days we began our riding between 7-8 am, after breakfast with our hosts. The places we stayed were either home stays or small inns, tiny spots in small towns which gave me a chance to see how people lived and how they grew their crops.

Each day we also saw more and more how crops were grown as we slowly descended into the canyons. In some places we walked on paths so narrow that a single misstep would send horse and rider plummeting a very long way into the river below. Not for the faint of heart. In other areas we had to walk the horses, or a rock fall would require some maneuvering. Nothing was all that easy. We'd take a break at midday for fruit and nut snacks under a tree or near a stream.

On the third day we picked up Wilbert's English Sheepdog Loki which provided much entertainment for me, for in addition to my propensity for petting anything and everything with fur, Loki was still a big puppy and happy to accept all belly rubs after long days of running.

The other challenge on this trip was getting rest at night. The small towns were full of dogs, and at several places the owners had dogs that tended to bark all night. This kept me wide awake. It wasn't enough that there was the requisite trip to the loo every 90 minutes, now I had dogs barking, and as a pretty light sleeper, this did me in. On two nights in particular, the dogs were finding lots of evil spirits to keep them busy and this of course was a perfect alarm. Our second day of riding happened to be our longest, and I had been sitting the trot all day which is hard on anyone's spine. I'd been in a car accident a week before the trip and the trotting had caused migraine, and we were riding through the most lovely scenery I'd ever enjoyed, and I simply could not enjoy it.. Jarly was trying to point out giant humming birds and I was looking out through a sea of red mist. I was doing my best to take photos to at least document what I was seeing, but later when I checked, my finger was in most of the shots, I was so out of it. Alas. We have those days.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 04:58 AM
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OMG! I just saw this!!!

The unique jhubbel is back in South America!

I'll have alter my schedule to read it all!

But it will certainly be worth it!!!!!

LOL!!!!
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 05:51 AM
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Hello my friend! good to see you on here. I am in my room packing right now and have to take a writing break, but will be back on later when I am done with chores. I figure anything to get away from our Presidential campaign.....
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 09:35 AM
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How lucky and talented you are to be able to travel on horseback to remote places in Colca Canyon, and to write so beautifully about it.

I stayed two nights (one on each side in the smaller towns) and loved it, especially away from Chivay and the condor view point.

They were paving the roads, and increasingly promoting tourism, I hope the essence of that ancient place does not change for those who want to find it.

Photos from nearly 5 years ago.

https://picasaweb.google.com/1053023...eat=directlink
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 09:58 AM
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Mlgb you are most kind. For some reason I am losing the last three entries and having to start over, copying and pasting does not work as well with this iPad. I miss my Windows.

We went to Sibayo, Canocota, Chivay, Coporaque, the Tombs of Yuraqacca, Uyo Uyo ruins, stayed in Lary, then Madrigal, visited the ruins of Chimapa then to Pinchollo, to Mirador Cruz del Condor.

I think that the increasing roads are what bother me the most. Wilbert asked me about this. As one who grew up in an isolated farm area, I hate what roads do. People think it will make them rich. What it does all too often is make just a few people very rich, and costs all of us the one thing that made us all rich- the wilderness. Once built, the road cannot be taken back. Once the tourists come, they bring with them what they bring with them. And that is what I rode eight hours a day to get away from. I paid a very high price to enjoy the canyon as it is, to see it in its natural state, without cigarette butts and trash cans and plastic bags and parking lots and four wheel drive vehicles and waddling fat tourists dropping wrappers on the grass.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 10:05 AM
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As I am now 63 I don't know how many more of these kinds of trips I have in me. What I do know is that I am going to do as many as I can before the tourists do come. And I am hiring Wilbert, and hoping to see what he has seen and through his eyes enjoy the canyons and ruins and what makes this part of the world so gloriously, stupendously, heartbreakingly beautiful.

One day we were heading down a hill, high stone fences on either side. The day was late, that special late afternoon autumn fiery sun that shines the way it does when it knows winter is coming, like it has to bring fire to everything before it goes quiet for the year. There was a final rise before we went into the town. As we headed uphill, the sun silhouetted Wilmert and Caprioso, the horse's long flowing mane whipped by the waning day's breezes. Josito, her blue burden carried with such quiet grace, trotted slowing behind. To either side stood high eucalyptus trees, an acres of quinoa, green wheat, potatoes and emerald alfalfa. The moment was so perfect, so gorgeous that it took my breath away. Despite my headache, despite that long day, that moment captured for me why I do these rides. One can only pray to be given moments like that to savor.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 10:18 AM
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One of my favorite moments on the last day came as we were riding up to see a local geysir. En route we passed a man made reservoir, and of course Loki had to investigate. And investigate he did- and in he went. Which was foolish, since the smooth concrete walls gave him no purchase to escape. Seconds later Wilbert was off his horse with his rope in a sling and he had Loki by the neck and back on dry land. I captured this last on film, and we were all laughing. Wilbert told us later he pretty much knew Loki was going to go all in and he was prepared. But he was so fast! It was part of his competence- and part of why he was such a pleasure to ride with. His reputation for knowing all the roads has made him a favorite target for cattle thieves who want him to do their dirty work. They figure if anyone can get away with thievery he can but he has better things to do. He has been in the Army during the terrorism years, and has plenty of stories. These days he has grown sons and one 9 year old who has a pony and he has big plans to grow his herd and his tourism business.

At the geysir we found a small group of men who had gathered in part, said Wilbert, to provide offerings to Pachamama for protection for their trail work. Not only for themselves but also for those who come afterwards. Jarly was a constant source of information about our visits to the tombs, where we saw skulls which had been deformed by wrapping ((as infants) to make them the same shape as the mountains the people worshipped. Many bones and skulls remain- this is the kind of thing that I genuinely worry will be taken if there are lots more tourists. Right now, to get to these sites is very, very hard work. You either must climb or ride, and either way it's very high up, and that requires a level of fitness. I train at altitude in Denver, but here we're talking about another five thousand feet. That's doable, if you respect the altitude and walk slowly.

Another day right after breakfast Jarly took me to walk the ruins of a simply gorgeous city. So much history, and the government had invested a great deal to rebuild the houses and buildings so that you could see how it might have once looked. Jarly knew his history, and I was able to appreciate how many local people lost their lives by refusing to bend to Spanish demands to move, and were instead burned in place in their homes.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 10:25 AM
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Sibayo, our first and one of the highest stops, was the town of stones, and a charming place. They had a thriving tourist business there as they took visitors through the process of how wool is harvested and spun, then dyed and put onto the looms. However, I was more interested in the waistcoats the women were wearing, and enlisted Jarly into helping me find out how to purchase one. The traditional garb of these women and in particular in this town is heavily embroidered and very colorful, several layers of vest, blouse and a matching hat. The hat is seen all through the valley, a low, curved flat affair, white and covered with colorful embroidered flowers. Our proprietor, Julia, had an extra she could be persuaded to let go, and we agreed on a proper price. And it fit perfectly. The skirts come to the floor and are characterized by many rows of embroidered flowers, this I didn't need, the vest was perfect. I find that rather than souvenirs in most cases, a piece of traditional ethnic clothing is more meaningful to me than anything else I can bring home. One can only have so many Peruvian hats or gloves, and I already have plenty, but this waistcoat really is a thing of beauty. As we women like to say, you won't see yourself coming down the street.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 10:46 AM
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Our third day took us to a small town where there were two corrals next to each other, one for the horses and another for three curious burros. We dismounted gratefully, took the tack down and loaded it all inside. One of the keys to protecting the animals is to leave the blankets on for a while as the horses cool down, so that the cold night air doesn't chill the animal immediately. This high up the sun's departure results in one hell of a temperature drop, and it can kill a horse if his sweaty body is exposed to that cold air after a long day's riding. So they stand and rest while we unload gear, bags, saddles and sundry items into the courtyard. Once all the horses are given feed and they are good for the night we can all have a drink or coca tea (my favorite). I've always found that the whole process of readying the animals for riding, breaking down, taking the time to pet them and rub those places where bridles and saddles have made them sweaty almost always earns you a friend when you come back. One buckskin, the horse I rode the first two days, discovered that I liked to rub ears, and he was a sucker for it, so he traded me horse kisses for ear rubs, a most happy trade. Depending on the animal- and of course the rider- I like to talk to my mount, even if I don't speak the language.. It's the tone and the intent they pick up.

For example, at one point, we were crossing through a town, and I was on Caprioso. I talked to Caprioso constantly, a kind of low, soothing murmur, with the occasional placement of my hand on his neck. At first this startled him a though he was expecting to be hit or punished, but over time he saw it as reward for a good job,. This day, a big black dog shot out of nowhere from our left to go after Loki. This startled Caprioso, and we were just crossing the highway.

In all of riding, it's the rider's job to be calm, to calm the horse, soothe the horse.This is why I refuse to ride with beginners. If the rider is also afraid you now have two big problems because the rider is communicating their terror through their body and down the reins which amplifies the horse's discomfort. So even if you're injured, to your best ability, soothe the horse. I put my hand on his neck, continued to speak to him in the same voice, and in seconds he was fine. What I love about riding a nervous, highly spirited horse like this is that you have to stay attuned to the animal at all times, you can't take him for granted. You have to watch the ears, listen to the body language with your legs, and keep in touch with his mouth with your hands. With an animal like Caprioso,you only ride with permission, and you always, always, always ask for advice, any special guidance, and for quirks the animal has. The worst mistakes I see riders make when they ride overseas is that they assume they know how- well, maybe. Not necessarily this particular animal, this kind of tack, and in the mood he's in today. The best leadership lessons are given by horses (I think) because you are constantly humbled by them. Caprioso had been badly mishandled, so mistakes on my part would make things worse. It was really an honor to be allowed to ride him.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 11:01 AM
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As an animal lover, the Colca Canyon trip was out of this world. I've been many places where dogs are mistreated, and the Canyon is not one of them. Each night I could sit on the sidewalk and in minutes someone's animal would be enjoying an ear rub, or lying on my lap, or two or three of them would be vying for attention. In the early mornings there might be several in a pack, but all would wave their tails, clearly not threatened. If anything I collected plenty of paw dirt which went down the drain at Bubamara Hostal's shower. I had my share of other animals to love on ranging from sheep to deer to cats, and in one memorable homestay I snuck the owner's dog into my room (this is the little bastard whose bark had kept me up all night) threw his little blond ass on my bed cover and proceeded to tickle his belly until he was ecstatic. I suspect he might not have had that happen before but I'm not telling Mom. I do, however, own the incriminating video. He was most happy.

The other thing I so liked about the Canyon was the fact that everyone was in traditional dress. In so many places I go in the world, the only time you see this is when people dress up for tourists and expect to get tips. This is so sad. In Africa, for example, you'd be hard pressed to find an African wearing traditional garb- most live in cities or on the outskirts of cities, and want to look Western. So it is lovely to see women in these beautiful skirts, the wonderful hats.
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Old Apr 25th, 2016, 04:45 PM
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Saul met us at the Plaza de Armas about midday on our last day. I remember trying to soak up every single moment of that day, so aware that it was my last, so achingly aware that the next morning I would not be joining him to collect and brush the animals. We all gathered for goodbyes, and I was able to express my heartfelt gratitude not only for a job well done but for so many wonderful experiences, and a very real intention to repeat within the next year or so, possibly springtime. I have his card, and expect to stay in touch. I've already forwarded information to other riding friends who would qualify as good candidates.

The three of us piled into Saul's car and repeated our drive back, and I got to enjoy the sights of the mountains from the other way around. By the time we made it back to Arequipa it was about 7 pm. Saul dropped us off at Calle de Jerusalem, where I thought I had a reservation. Unfortunately, I had the day wrong and had booked the next night. They told me all they had was a tiny, tiny closet of a room downstairs (no wifi, facing construction junk). At full price. I hemmed and hawed. Jarly offered to give me a hand.

We asked them to "give us a minute" which turned into about forty. This was a busy Saturday night, and we walked the entire district around the monastery trying to find a decent place for me to stay. We were both exhausted and dirty, and all I wanted was a place to spread out. A closet sized room at full price with no toilet was not an option.

We found the Bubumara Hostal, which had the marriage suite available, and nabbed it. We double timed it back- and remarkably, in the time we were gone, a real room had opened up but by this point I'd lost interest in Calle de Jerusalen- and we carted all my gear over to Bubumara where I gratefully handed Jarly a well earned tip and hugged him goodbye.

Then I took a shower that used up all the hot water and washed five days of mountains out of my hair, did all my laundry, festooned my room with socks and all the rest, and collapsed.

The next day, I awoke in tears to the sound of traffic. I did not want to be there. While I appreciated the warmth, the scent of clean sheets, I desperately missed the Canyon with every fiber of my being. And swore I'd be back.
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Old Apr 26th, 2016, 04:30 PM
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Great report here. Bookmarking so I can read later. Thank you!
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Old Apr 28th, 2016, 01:40 AM
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I am now writing from a friend's house up here in Jejetepeque which doesn't even deserve a mention in my version of Lonely Planet. Such a small town, a neighbor of Pacasmayo, but home to some very serious breeders of the great Paso Llano, which of course is why I'm here. I'm nursing some bruises and cuts from riding through the local brush but it's all in good fun. Blanca de Ponce, my friend and the wife of the owner of the stables, sends me out each day with two different horses for three hours in the bright sun, revisiting the dunes and dead cities which were abandoned years ago, the ruins that face the beaches and the pretty rice paddies that grow green under the sun. The only unpleasant note here, that was here previously, is the trash, inexplicably, almost as awful as I found in Cambodia, but not quite. It lies piled high by the wind absolutely everywhere, we have to ride through it, it's dangerous for the horses, not only because it scares them into the traffic, but the glass and metal can damage hooves. It's ugly and thoughtless and careless and one wonders why an entire community simply doesn't care. People clearly just drive out a little ways and through trash out of their cars onto the road sides.

That said, at least the horses here are worth visiting. Two years ago when I visited this breeder I was given the chance to ride a magnficent stallion named Presente. I was told yesterday that this creature, who had provided me the ride of a lifetime, sadly died not long after of colic. Those of us who love horses also are well aware that they can be taken away from us just as quickly, and for breeders of great animals like this one I'm sure his loss was horrific. However in his place was a gorgeous new stud which I had the pleasure to befriend over the last few days, and even take out for a ride yesterday morning.
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Old Apr 30th, 2016, 04:00 PM
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By now I've been riding six hours a day since arriving on the 27th, and I have to admit by midday today even I was tired. After the adventure in Colca Canyon, I had just a bit of time to recuperate before embarking on daily rides here, and in the significant heat (especially in the late afternoons) it can get draining. That combined with sometimes ill fitting stirrups which twist the ankle at a bad angle (it's the nature of the beast at times) I had to tell my friend Blanca today that I might want to take this lovely afternoon off. I landed on my bed and collapsed for about three hours, waking in the late day to loud salsa music coming from the carnival next door to celebrate May 1. I'd taken the stallion out this morning with Goyo, my most constant challen. We went out with a mare, and natch, my big boy had eyes only for the mare, and spent most of his time preening and chuckling and attempting to maneuver around behind her unless I directed his attention to the road ahead. Which,when he got his mind off the girl, he was simply magnificent, his sweet stride like riding warm chocolate. Whatever he produces as a stud horse is going to have a wonderful gait, and if that progeny looks at all like dad, what a horse.

I've had the chance to out each day with different riders, some good, some not so good. The other day I went out with a neighboring ranch's challen, and his mare was quite nervous. I'd sat her briefly but he decided to ride her instead, giving me an animal which couldn't decide what part of the road to ride in. This challen in particular (and I recall him from my previous trip as being furious at me for trying to make his horse gallop, when I had no clue what he was talking about) had a habit of whacking the mare regularly. Now I'm a fan of reward rather than punishment, of any animal, but I"m a visitor here, these are not my horses. However, I did observe that his mare wasn't fond of him and found a way to get even. This challen wasn't paying attention to where he was riding and rode his animal right into a branch, which scared her terribly, and on top of this, she suddenly realized that there was a human working behind the tree next to this terrible branch, and all this was just too much. She'd had enough terrors in two seconds and moments later the challen was on the ground, bleeding from his elbow, and she kicked her lovely heels up in the air and was on her way down the path. I was a good ways back, and my horse refused to budge. Whatever scared her, he wasn't willing to go explore. In fact, he was terrified of a lot of things, including water, which we were riding next to for some time. He would angle his body away from the water, ears pricked, so that we were effectively walking sideways, crablike, and nothing I could do could convince him that the water didn't hold some kind of sea monster.

Well, we walked until we found the mare, he remounted and we continued. I have to admit that once you've been riding long enough you can get an excellent feeling for an animal that is accustomed to being struck, an animal that is used to reward and love, and one that lives in constant fear of the whip. If I ride an animal that's been abused, especially if I'm on one for several days, its first reaction to a hand on its body is terror. After a while, combined with soothing tone, it relates that touch to comfort, the horse relaxes and we have a wonderful ride. Again, it's not for me to say what is right or wrong, all I know is that I get more from kindness than hurt, and I love an animal that follows me around out of love rather than runs at the sight of me. But I'm just saying.
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Old Apr 30th, 2016, 04:13 PM
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One young man whose father is a local campo has taken me out a couple of times. He knows the trails by heart, and this is a real advantage. There are so many of them- and each can take you either by ancient ruins, or by the ocean (the tides limit when you can ride the beach) or by the beautiful verdant rice paddies. Along the way, and by now I've ridden most of these paths several times over, you can adventure onto deep sand, or high dunes, and across moonscapes perfect for a future holocost movie. There are attempts here and there to grow palms and cactus. These plans are protected by black plastic, sometimes drowned in too much water.

Depending on who takes me out we might taken the irrigation canals where men are digging dirt to make into house bricks. We pass house after house where bricks are stacked, where it looks as though work has been underway for a long time. Egrets which stalk the local cows for insects and ticks also line the irrigation canals for small fish, and rise prettily against the blue sky as we draw nearby.

Interestingly the champion horses are a bit limited as to where they can be ridden. Many of the local roads have rough rocks which are painful for their feet. The campo's horses' feet are tougher, but these are stall-bound show horses that don't work for a living. Therefore depending on which animal I ride, I have to limit their speed as well as keep them on sand and softer ground.

As we ride we pass many homes which are in partial disrepair, situated on land which has been owned by a particular family for many generations. This small town is primarily agricultural, there are huge fields dedicated to tomatoes and asparagus here as well as rice which was in the middle of harvest and a second planting.

No matter where we rode, the wind was a constant companion, the closer to the sea the fresher and kinder the temperature. No wonder windsurfing is so popular here.

On each ride I take a backpack (gear note here- the one I've learned to trust is a SAGE fly fishing version which is ideal for riding except at the gallop, oh well) and we pack along water and fruit. What I have to remember is to grab the empty bottle from the challen or he will toss it on the ground, part problem of complete disregard for the environment. Everyone does it, so....And the trash is a real problem as we often find ourselves riding on glass or metal which can do serious damage.
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Old Apr 30th, 2016, 04:30 PM
  #38  
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Another gear note or two: I bought a pair of Ariat boots which double as hiking boots specifically for this trip, with Colca Canyon in mind. Now they are made for riding, and for that they are great, they fit well, they ride well, they have a spur rest which I used with Wilbert's horses. However, here's the problem. They have very limited tread. For those of us who really do HIKE, the tread on these crossover boots is simply not intended for the kind of hiking that I had to do in the canyon. Jarly and I often were making our way down very, very steep inclines (and I didn't have my poles at the time) and the inclines had a lot of scree. Those two things tend to lead to an awful lot of skidding even with good tread, it's a fact of life. But good tread, really good tread, gives you a modicum of confidence. However I found myself nearly on my rush time and time again, particularly while leading the horses downhill because I couldn't trust my boots. So, a nice riding boot, fits well, good price, but don't count it for any kind of serious hiking. It's just not made for that.

A good purchase I made, and it's too bad they don't put the name on the product, is the pair of glasses I bought for riding. I can say that they are made for motor sports and as such they are lined and protective against dust, dirt, snow and water. How I WISH I'd had a pair of these last year in Iceland. They are reflective, they have grey lenses which work best for me, but the key thing here is that they don't tend to fog up even in the heat. Riding behind my challen on these dusty roads, often where people are burning trash, riding behind an animal that is throwing up mud, these glasses were by far one of the better investments I ever made. It looks like the brand name is BB, again, it's on the box but not the glasses. I hope to report this later if anyone wants to know the brand, I will get more. They made life so much easier especially for varied conditions, and for eye protection while riding in a group- especially at speed- they can't be beaten.

The other item I invested in for this trip was a pair of FITS breeches. I'm not big on spending $200 on any pair of breeches when so many can be had for far less. However when I travel and lots of riding is in store, especially in a tropical climate, I need a washable breech that also has faux leather padding (breathable)which also helps grip unfamiliar saddles. The FITS I bought were washable, and as I found each night when I came in from riding, I could take a washcloth and a bit of water and largely remove the layer of dirt that covered my legs without having to put them in the wash. This kept them clean enough to continue to wear for many days and that's a real convenience. That said, today they did get washed, and they dried quickly but for the faux leather, which takes longer, and in this dry climate they are going to be good to go by morning. They are light enough for hot weather and I'm definitely investing in more. The breeches I wore in Colca Canyon came from Iceland and while I strongly recommend them they aren't easily available.
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Old Apr 30th, 2016, 04:49 PM
  #39  
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Today I took some time to spend with a mare that had been left here by one of the local challens. She was on a pole in the sun, given some nice hay, but standing quietly by herself, her head down. I went to her, and began to massage her.

On inspection, I discovered that she was infested with ticks in her forelock (the hair that comes down over and between the ears and eyes) and that it was very crusty- clearly never attended to. I've no idea how old this animal is, she strikes me as young but she's quite bony. Her ears were full of ticks. I had my work cut out for me.

For the next hour, she patiently stood while I pulled these nasty critters out of the depths of her ears and off her head. Then I stuck my fingers in her ears and gave her the first bona fide ear scratch she's probably ever had. I wish I could have gotten the reaction on video. She laid her ears back, flattened her head, and closed her eyes and just took it all in. She LOVED it. My fingers were filthy, her ears were full of crusty crap. There were more ticks, we went after them.

When I took a break she walked closer to me and put her head into my stomach, standing quietly. I just wanted to cry. She was such a sweet and patient creature. So I gave her a whole body massage, rubbed down her neck and chest and belly, scrubbed her butt, rubbed her mane. She just dropped her head and closed her eyes. Sometimes I just stood next to her and held her, running my hands along her body, she was a smallish horse, not a pony but not large. I held her head, rubbed the bones around her ears. She pressed her head into my belly. She had left her food alone and she began to eat a bit so I praised her.

I kept going back to her ears to make sure I'd gotten all the ticks, as it was impossible to see so far down inside the ear canal. However I did get my fingers deep inside and dislodge a few more, and that was the best I could do. She shook her head hard, then walked towards me again, and pressed up against me.It is hard to explain how this feels. This poor little animal works very hard, and the least its owner could do, in my mind, is keep the ticks out of its ears and forelock. However, not my animal, not my country, not mine to criticize. All I can do is what I can with the owner not present and hope for the best.

When I finally went to leave, she followed me as far as the rope would allow, ears pricked forward, breaking my heart. I went back and loved on her again, holding her head, scratching her ears, stroking her forehead. All too often I come across animals that you can love for a moment and that's all you can do.
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Old May 3rd, 2016, 04:51 AM
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For whatever reason the last four entries I've written haven't posted, but I'll try again. On Sunday past, my hosts took me north for a few hours to a cousin' s house to give me a chance to ride for a few hours in a different area. Raphael had two great Pasos, not show horses but quite serviceable. I was amused that much of the headgear for his horse was held together with blue string, and he had no bit. Doesn't matter- as long as it all works. We took a terrific ride through some local forested areas which, sadly, have been partially denuded for firewood., These huge old trees provide habitat for the many birds and other animals and their loss not only affects animal life but increases what is already brutal heat in the area.

It was May 1, and we had a chance to see what people did on Workers' Day, and for most folks, it was work. We passed many carts being pulled by tiny burros, piled high with sweet potatoes and kids. Entire families were out in the fields in the wicked heat. The campos houses, all without water, heat, electricity or other services, were full of people and activity just as they had been for years and years.
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