(Some other commentary will soon be attached to the photos.)

Often the morning is lovely, but on this day in March of 2007 it is overcast. This is the rainy season, that means it always rains in the afternoon, and sometimes in the morning too. We hired a taxi for the day, the cost was the same for a taxi, or for two people on the bus. With a taxi we were able to invite Eleazar, our friend/guide/translator, to join us at no extra cost other than his lunch. Anneliese and I left in the early morning. In less than half an hour we stopped at the grotto on the bypass for Recuay. Anneliese hurried down the stone steps from the bypass, and through the town only to find Eleazar already on his way to meet us. Waiting for them at the top, I was so mesmerized by the grotto that I didn't even think to explore it closer. A tour bus drove by us, almost on two wheels as it raced around the curve. We shook our heads and thanked God we were not on it and had a safe driver for the day. Not much farther along the way that same bus was on the side of the road with a flat tire, the driver standing and looking at it. We raced by him, but at a safer speed and used all four of our wheels.

Huaraz is already high in the mountains, but it is also surrounded by mountains. We drove higher to Recuay, and even higher to plateaus, and even higher to Lake Querococha, where we stopped at a kiosk for a coffee alternative (Apparently coffee is difficult to get in Peru.) The kiosk was decorated appropriately with dried cobs of corn and also fish (dried? plastic? taxidermied?) suspended from the ceiling. The view was superb, the lake was so gorgeous I took more photos than anyone could possibly want to have. Two natives spotted our arrival and waited for us to return to the taxi so they could charge us for taking photos of them posing with their llama (pronounced yamma) and lamb. They hid below the grade of the road until we arrived at the opportune spot to take photos. We offered a donation, they allowed only enough time for one or two quick photos before they left in a rush, hoping we would pay more for them to stay longer.

We drove yet higher into the mountains, some of the road was paved but pavement does not last in that weather so the road surface was rough and often had loose rocks of all sizes that had rolled onto it from the mountains above. There were so many little waterfalls close to the road, creating streams that passed through culverts to continue their cascade down the mountain. Anneliese asked if I didn't have enough photos of waterfalls, but each is different, and all are pretty, so why not?

A series of interesting road patterns and switchbacks led us to the summit, where we passed through a very long tunnel and began our descent into another valley where we would find the town of Chavin and the temple ruins with the same name. We passed by a primitive coal mine, and soon the scenery became quite different, in that a patchwork quilt of lush garden squares covered the mountainsides. Suddently the descent became very steep, requiring more switchbacks. There did not appear to be many vehicles on the road, and yet when we were stopped at a construction site there was a long line of cars and buses. A lady appeared out of nowhere with a large container, she was selling boiled eggs and boiled potatoes. The food was hot, cheap and delicious, we were hungry. Before she made it to the bus, the traffic began to move again. We felt sorry for her, having gone to the work and expense of preparing this food. Hopefully she could sell it to the next backup of vehicles waiting for construction. At the bottom of the mountain with all the construction and switchbacks a crew was clearing a mudslide, and what was in the mudslide but a truck with only its wheels sticking out. It was obvious there was no survivors. People take their chances in the rain here but what is there to do but go about your life and hope it doesn't happen to you.

The town of Chavin is farther down the road, and since we have already had that unexpected light lunch of eggs and potatoes we head directly to the ruins. The taxista (taxi driver) had a tourism course some time before and has been to these ruins several times so he will explain what he remembers about the ruins, Eleazar will be translator, so we opt to not request one of their guides and therefore save a bit of money... For us, this was a good decision, we enjoyed the freedom of being our impulsive selves without restriction from guides. Sure, we would have learned more from their guides, but we learned plenty from ours. I have added comments to the photos, to fill you in on some of the details of the ruins.

After our exploration we needed refreshment, our taxista took us to a cute little cafe for the locals. We dined outside and enjoyed our view of a huge pacay tree and avocado tree. Encouraged by the taxista, we nibbled on a giant clover plant growing by our table, it tasted like rhubarb. Soon the taxista suggested we begin the journey back, but first we drove through the very narrow streets of the town of Chavin in search of a gas station while the needle on the guage was below the E.

We filled the gas tank and took a very short stroll around the central plaza. The taxista showed a little impatience so we reluctantly began the return journey... and none too soon. We hadn't realized the dangers. The rain began to fall and the clouds looked angry. The higher we climbed, the more ugly the weather became. The road was transformed to mud, and at one point on the roadway there had been a rock slide. Children stopped us on the road and asked for money so their friends up ahead would move a huge rock that had rolled into the middle of the road. We could see them waiting for the signal that we had paid. The taxista paid without argument while he told us this was a common ruse, the children actually roll the rock on and off the road to get money from all the passing traffic. He was happy to pay, he said they are poor and need the money. But while we drove through the rocky rubble and other rocks occasionally tumbled down the sheer mountainside, we couldn't help but wonder out loud about the safety of those children... indeed, we were worried about our own safety beneath the falling rocks. Pedal to the metal (or as quickly as possible) we drove through that dangerous area.

Farther along, in the pouring rain, we encountered a couple of very young children in the middle of nowhere. The taxista asked them to come with us and he delivered them to their doorstep a few miles down the road. The little boy offered to pay the pittance that he had in his outstretched hand but the taxista refused it, again demonstrating his big heart.

The rain became worse, coming down in torrents. The rain and the overcast day made it too dark to take photos from the window, and it was definitely too wet to walk around with my camera. By the time we passed through the tunnel and began our descent the pretty little waterfalls and creeks we saw on the way there had become swollen and angry, with mud and boulders rolling towards the road. The culverts were not large enough, muddy water roared across the road like a river. One of our crossings looked to be about 12.5cm (five inches) deep, the taxista guided the car expertly at an angle across the torrent. It was a little hair-raising, but we put our faith in the good driving he had demonstrated all through our trip.

In the dark and almost at the kiosk at Querococha Lake, where we had stopped for refreshment on the way to our adventure, a native family standing in the downpour waved us down. Our taxista, with the big, friendly heart, invited them to join us, wet clothes and all. All except for one of them piled into the back of the car (station wagon). One sat in the back seat with us. We exchanged big smiles. What else could we do? They obvously needed a ride. At that moment a taxi passed us going the other way... it was the taxi they had ordered a while back, so they all piled out again, with many gracias, and piled into their own cab. We no longer felt like sardines in a can. We discussed the many unusual events of the day, wondering what else was waiting for us before our bedtime!

Finally we arrived at Recuay where we dropped Eleazar off at his home, and we two girls were then delivered to the door of our hostel in Huaraz, tired and drained, and babbling to our genial hosts about our adventure! What a day!