11/15/2010
Source: The Daily Evergreen
The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of adventure, a roller coaster of emotion and some of the best days of my life. As far as vacations go, this one is at the top of my list. It all started October 28.
That day, my friend Mel and I packed our bags and headed for Baños, an adventure town hidden in the Andes Mountains. In five days, I successfully spent $300 and attempted every extreme activity I had time for.
I zip-lined across a canyon, white-water river rafted, played with monkeys in a jungle sanctuary, hiked in the Amazon Rainforest, swam under the tallest waterfalls I have ever seen, rope-swung off the top of a cliff overlooking the rainforest, canoed and swam in a branch of the Amazon River, biked down Tungurahua volcano, took a joy ride around town in a four-wheeler and finished off the trip by scaling down a 45-meter waterfall.
Looking back, I nearly can't believe I did it all. Every activity carried a new charge of adrenaline that was almost addicting, continually making me want to do something more extreme than the last. Still, the scariest, most intense part of the whole trip, was bridge jumping. I stood on the edge of the bridge and looked down 45 meters to my potential death on the rocks of a flowing river. I gulped, hard. “I don’t think I can do this,” I told the man who had strapped me into my harness. My heart was beating so violently, I thought it might fall out.
The man then gave me the option to stand on the opposite side of the bridge while he held onto my harness, close my eyes, and have him let go. This may or may not have been legal, but I agreed. I knew there was no way I had the guts to jump off by myself, but this was something I had to prove to myself that I could do. He counted, “Three, two, one, ready?” My insides screamed “No!” but my decision was set. “Ready,” I said. The fall was scarier than the scariest roller coaster imaginable. I’m almost surprised the rope didn’t break off by how hard I squeezed it. When the rope caught, a wave of relief washed over me and I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the whole time. As I swung back and forth in the harness waiting to be let down, I finally smiled. My sane side might not have followed through with the bridge jump (or in my case, bridge fall), but in the heart of adventure, there’s nothing like an irrational decision to push you over the edge.
My second week of vacation was like a 180-degree flip compared to the first week. After my five days of crazy adventure, I headed south to Mancora, Peru, for a week of relaxation on the beach.
Mancora is like a hippie haven. Since the town lies just a couple hours from the Ecuador/Peru boarder, it serves as a stopping point for many travelers going between countries. Different from Baños, I spent most of my time working up a good tan on the beach. I did, however, get a beach-front massage (for $5!), went horseback riding and learned to surf. The best part about Mancora, though, was the friends I made. I went with a great group of girls and within our first days there we met two Irish guys, Adrian and Dara, and English twin brothers Mark and Dave at our hostel.
These guys were a riot. At the end of six days, we had shared endless inside jokes and moments for the memory books. We all instantly became great friends, so much so that the hardest part about going back to Guayaquil was saying goodbye.
Mancora embodied happy times through and through. The trip got me excited about traveling once I graduate; I have now added a trek through Central and South America to my bucket list. It was refreshing to meet so many great people from around the world with similar interests, and it was a vacation I doubt I will ever forget.