El Choro Trail

North of smoggy, dirty, chaotic La Paz, we hiked the Choro trail up and down seventy kilometers of pristine Andean mountains. We set off in sleet and finished three days later with sore knees in a sweaty jungle. I wanted to turn back after the first two hours. I dragged my feet up the black, rocky terrain, disappointed that all we could see was cold mist and an occasional group of llamas. I admittedly exaggerated my wheezing and panting when I told TK that I couldn’t manage this trek – I was too sick and out of shape. (I had seen a doctor in La Paz the day before, who gave me a slew of medications and a shot in the butt for a respiratory problem I’d been battling for a couple weeks.) TK asked me to give it another hour and see how I felt if we reached the summit.

We reached it within ten minutes and I agreed to continue down the trail, as it switchbacked through increasingly warmer and thicker air. The scenery turned greener, reminding me of Switzerland and TK of Scotland. The trail dates back to pre-Incan times and I began to appreciate the idea of walking the same path as ancient Incans. The area remains largely untouched – we hiked for hours without seeing another human and only occasionally sighted a humble house or two, with small patches of potato or corn crops.

Random house after hours with no civilization

At dusk we stopped at a campsite nestled in a valley, set up our tent, and collapsed to sleep without dinner. The last several hours had been steeply downhill on a path of slick stones. The concentration required to cautiously secure my footing for every step was as draining as the physical toll on my knees. I slipped three times and grumbled that this was not a beginner’s hike, as TK had assured me it was.

The second day’s hike led us through gorgeous, lush mountainsides and across rivers in between. It was so refreshing to be surrounded by nothing but green mountains and clean water in every direction, as far as we could see. I forget that places so beautiful and peaceful still exist, where you can easily imagine that humans don’t exist at all.

Rocks laid over 500 years ago. If only they
had chosen less slippery rocks..

In the middle of nowhere, TK finds someone to chat with about farming.
This lady was all alone, tending to her crops on the side of the mountain.

Somewhere around here I realized what day it was and that it was the
first day of class back in Bmore. SO glad I quit school.

Some of the extension bridges weren't in the best shape.

The third day was hot. The climate turned tropical, with more ferns, lizards, snakes, sweat, and sunburn. The trail ended in the small town of Chairo, where we devoured some sandwiches and beer before heading to our next destination.