Row, row, row your boat

The canoe trip cannot really be properly written about as one entity. I like to think of it as two separate events that happened to involve the same boat and river, and happen in sequence.

The first two days of the canoe trip were AMAZING. It was around 105 degrees, the water was green and murky but warm, the river was a little shallow but that was fine... We spent most of those days in our bathing suits, liberally applying sunscreen and paddling along, occasionally singing random things that came to mind, stopping occasionally on the Mexico or US side for lunch or potty breaks.

For the first half an hour of the trip, we had a Mexican man on a donkey occasionally meet us on the river, waving a bag over his head and yelling in Spanish. We had a few Spanish speakers on the trip, and one of them translated that he was laughing at the group of white women in canoes, and trying to sell us pot. It was kind of cute, in a mildly creepy sort of way.

When we entered the canyon, there was an old Mexican man living in a dilapidated hut with (I presume) his son, selling walking sticks. He had a beautiful singing voice, and sang to us an old classic song in Spanish. It resonated off the cliffs hauntingly, and as a group we all stopped talking, our paddling slowing as we floated into this majestic canyon to the unusual voice and melody. It felt like something out of a movie, it was so cinematic and amazing... Just remembering it sends chills down my spine.

The first night on the river was restless- the wind in the canyon is very hard, and battered our tent all night. There were flocks of wild horses around, and they would occasionally gallop by our campsite, whinnying and snorting. There was also an irritable donkey (there seem to be a lot of those in the south) that kept us up with frantic braying.

The second day went as well, we were all adjusting to river life. I was amused the first time one of us had the idea to go into the river to pee, instead of squatting in a bush. I tried it, and had the unusual experience of peeing in a river while 14 people waved encouragingly from the shore. It was... liberating, I suppose?

We ended the night at another campsite near a trailhead up one of the mountains. For dinner, Elise, Theo and I cooked a strange concoction of beans, rice, and canned vegetables. One of the canoes had sprung a leak during the day, and our whole food box was doused in Rio Grande water, which is definitely not safe for drinking. As a result, we lost a great deal of our food supplies.. It was unusual to ration to precisely- we had, of course, overpacked, we were never in any real danger of starvation, but you're much more careful about waste and servings when you've recently lost food.

The next morning, everything changed.

I woke up in a puddle of water, in a collapsed tent. At some point during the night, the poles had unstaked themselves and broken on me and Kristina, so we were essentially sleeping in a wet pile of green ripstop. We emerged from the tent to find that it was cold and raining.

In the desert, there is rain (a light sprinkle) and RAIN (a monsoon). To date that year, the area had experienced 2/10 of an inch of rain. The heavy rains don't typically come until late June.

Well, we must have brought some Michigan weather with us, because it RAINED.

We tried to wait it out, me and the other two unprepared women (we didn't bring windbreakers) huddling under the dining fly for warmth while everybody packed up. Group cuddling with stinky people becomes pretty awesome when you're freezing your butt off. Around noon, we realized that we had to go, cold and wet conditions aside, to make it to our pull out point the next day on time.

Joe gave us tent annexes to wear for warmth. I was doubtful that a thin piece of ripstop would keep me warm, but it did. I was very soggy, but mostly warm... Or warmer than I would have been, anyways.

We paddled down the river, singing and making strange jokes to keep our spirits up. I started speaking pirate for a while and became an aggressive canoer, paddling feircely past everybody else while telling them to, "Sod off, yee skurvy bilge-rat!" Another (usually quite reserved) group member incited laughter by shouting to a group of us floating near a rapids, "My nipples are harder than they've ever been!" Hey, you do what it takes when attempting to keep spirits up, I suppose.

We landed at our campsite and everybody was soaked and cold. It was probably actually somebody's private property, but regardless we set to work tearing down dead mesquite bushes and grass to light a wet fire. Technically, that's not allowed in the desert, but everybody was turning blue so bending the rules was important. Joe found a rock ledge that we could just barely squeeze the 15 of us under, and we started a fire to warm it and dry ourselves off.

I discovered my secret talent at gathering wood, every time I left I'd return with a huge bushel of wood.. At one point, Brock stated, "Jeez Irisi, what did you do, cut down the whole tree?" That night I was working blindly through the cold, and a few days later I realized that my legs were covered in bruises and scratches as a result... I'm rather proud of those wounds, actually.

That night, I had opened my sleeping bag out to spread over me and Kristina, and couldn't hide in it from creepie crawlies. I was sleeping near an anthill for some sort of biting ant, and they crawled all over me in my sleep, getting into my clothes. If I moved the wrong way, they'd bite. Six inches above my face was a rock surface with a bunch of spiders. My feet were literally almost in the fire, I was worried about the health and well being of my boots. I slept like a baby.

The next morning, it was raining again. We hit the river in our annexes once more, canoeing on with the silent numbness cold promotes. There was a little more bickering on that day, but thankfully at noon we arrived at our pull out point and got out of the river, carrying our gear and canoes to the designated area.

.... At 1:30pm, the sky suddenly cleared and the sun came out.

Go figure.

Home, Sweet Home

I'm home in Indiana for the night! Soon I will write up my experiences canoeing and in Mexico... I have some pretty neat stories. For now, some coming home adventures:

- Upon walking into the kitchen, I stared at the fridge in awe for a moment, not used to seeing so many perishables at once
- A conversation with my mom:
Mom: Maybe you'd enjoy a shower?
Me: Oh, before I go to bed..
Mom: I really think you'd enjoy one now.
Me: It's okay, I just showered two days ago.
Mom: C, you smell. Go shower.
Me: Oh. Okay.
- My whole body started aching and I got a headache as soon as I started relaxing.
Mom: Would you like some peppermint tea, white wine, or alka selzer?
Me: All three, please.

I am enjoying a real day of rest before hitting the road again tomorrow... The rest of my travel stories coming soon!

desert rain

Cell update again! Canoeing was an adventure. We had a survival experience involving hypothermia. Go figure! Ill write more about it later. Today were hiking and going to a new campsite, tomorrow mexico! See y'all.

EcoExplorers Website

Here is the URL for the group website. We'll be updating it and adding photographs soon:

http://www.art-design.umich.edu/ecoexplorers/bigbend/Welcome.html

Updates again

Tomorrow we're starting to work on the trails with the park rangers, and after that we are going to canoe down the Rio Grande. I'm so excited for our laundry day on Wednesday! Taking a shower yesterday was the most blissful experience I've had in a long time. This break is much appreciated.

Last night we made pasta and sauce with garlic pita for dinner, and had cobbler and ice cream afterwards. It was amazing, after many meals of yard-o-beef and cous cous while we were backcountry. Yard-o-beef is like spam, only greasier, if that's possible, and after it's been hiked 10 miles in 100+ heat, it's... an experience, really. It also makes a great weapon if you need to kill something in the night.

While we were putting things away last night, I opened up a bear box (massive bearproof boxes for food) to stick some groceries into it, and discovered a huge web with a black widow spider right in the middle of it. That bin is now off limits until a ranger deals with it, but the experience certainly reminded me to stay on my toes- had I not been paying attention, I would have ended up in the hospital with a black widow bite.

I had the supreme luxury of sleeping in a tent last night. Three nights ago, our first two nights, I slept every night in the tent with my sleeping bag up to my ears, terrified of bugs. After two nights of sleeping in the bushes on the ground under the stars, I was much less scared in a tent, and slept on top of my bag in a sheet... It was the best nights rest I've had so far on this trip.

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

Chihuahua Desert, 100+ degree heat, the Chisos mountains, several thousand feet of elevation and descent, 12 litres of water and all our camping gear on our backs, and twenty miles over the course of two days combined to create what was probably the most physically and emotionally intense experience I have ever had.

I learned a great deal about surrender during this hike. Several miles into the desert, there isn't much option of turning back, nor is there the option of stopping. I was incredibly exhausted through most of the hike, the inclines and declines were difficult for everybody in our group, and often times I had no will to keep on moving, but had to because dehydrating in the desert is far less pleasant than hiking.

But oh, it was amazing. The view is spectacular, and being so far away from civilization and the noises of people was liberating. I cried freely often, releasing my old inhibitions about letting people see or know when I needed help, as a large group we all suffered our own pain and grew closer because of it. I had a few experiences that touched me with the realism of it:

On the first day, we missed a cairne and went off trail. Half an hour later, I started worrying, and shortly thereafter our little group realized that we were certainly quite lost. We were just preparing to blow our emergency whistle when by sheer chance another member of our group, in a different trail party happened to find us.

On the second day, I was leading my group, being aware of the markers and setting the pace. I walked up to a bush and it rattled at me. Rattle snakes are common in chihuahua, and deadly. We passed without harm, but it still gave me a fright.

Last night, we were unable to find our backcountry campground and, as the light faded, decided to camp out on the trail itself. My head was against a pile of rocks, and my feet were at a prickly pear bush, and I was terrified that I would encounter scorpions or spiders. Instead, a wandering Javalina encountered our party, it's fearful brays waking us all up as it passed through our campsite. We all waited, tensely whispering back and forth, waiting to see if it would choose to wander away or attack us. It wandered away, and we continued on our way.

There were also several funny experiences:

On the first day, Woody pocketed a prickly pear fruit, forgetting that it was covered in spines. He had to cut out his pocket, and went the rest of the hike that way.

After two days backcountry, we stopped by the lodge for milk. All of us stared in wonder at running water, tents, and toilets. It was with amazement that I washed my face, after two days of intense water conservation.... It was just two days, but possibly the longest two days of any of our lives.

At one point yesterday, my group was very very weary, and we were gradually becoming slower and slower as we pushed forwards. Eventually, we all collapsed on a rock face to sit for a moment (but not too long, stopping in 100+ temps in the middle of the day is a stupid idea), staring at the sky. It was then that we noticed those nice birds we had been observing were actually a group of turkey vultures, and they were circling us. Yikes!



In other news, I've gotten over my fear of bugs mostly, I learned how to use the potty in the desert (no room for inhibitions when in this situation), I drank a mouthful of ants (ooops), and I'm having an incredibly phenominal experience in the desert.



Lastly, I would like to give a shout out to my mom, who is awesome (happy mother's day!!), and thank her extensively for the 3Litre camelback bladder, without which I probably would have died in the desert. Or something close to it...

quickie phone update

we've been on the road for the past 30 or so hours, with a 5 hour break at a tiny motel in oklahoma to rest. The countryside is slowly becoming quite different. It's gorgeous here, with the reaching horizon, dotted with small, dense shrubbery and low lying clouds. I appreciate the unique beauty of Texas. Surprisingly, it reminds me vaugely of Greece.

We should arrive at our first campsite tonight around 7pm cst. I think this trip is going to be amazing. :)