A few years ago, I planned to spend the entire month of July in the neighboring Ayacucho area, working there with other missionaries, but as often here, plans change. I had to go to Arequipa to take care of the paperwork for my car on July 1, and returned to Kotahuasi on the 5th, expecting the next morning to go to Oiolo. However, when I checked the schedule, they said that there was only a storm, and there was too much snow on the high plain between Kotahuasi and Ojolo. The road was not passable now, maybe on Thursday or Sunday, if enough snow had fallen. I did not want to wait until a week and still not able to leave, so I decided to consider other possibilities. One of them was to take a bus from Kotahuasi to Lima, and then transfer to another bus going to Pause, which would take 48 hours, mostly on the bus. Another option is a walk I prefer. The problem is that I did not know this path, I would cross the high plain in the snow at a distance of about 16,000 feet, and I had no one to go with me.
It sounded like a great adventure, so on Wednesday morning I took off my too heavy backpack and went to Combi for an hour and 40 minutes before the end of the new road in Andamarck. From there I went to Sharkanu, which took just over 4 hours, and arrived at 11:15. At Charcana, which is at an altitude of 11,000 feet, the path rises steeply to the top of the canyon, and then gradually rises on a high plain before retreating back to Oyolo. The road to Oyolo rises to a high plain right outside Kotahuasi and ranges from 14,000 to 16,000 feet. I thought about climbing the rim that day, but I wasn’t sure if it would be a good place to camp below the snow line, so I decided to spend the night in Charcan. I talked to the policeman, and he said that he would find for me a guidebook that sounded like a wise idea, because I did not know whether the path would be visible with snow. I have different stories about how long it was, from six to eight hours, there were also two ways. That evening a policeman introduced me to Orlando, a young man who said he would take me on the road for 20 soles. It was that Zhosue and I were waiting for the Kombi when we returned from Ojolo in May, so I knew the way from there.
I was at the police station at 6:00 am by agreement, but not Orlando. The policeman sent someone to look for him, and he finally appeared at 6:30 in regular rubber sandals. I had a 50 pound package with a tent, a sleeping bag and a cushion, layers of clothing, waterproof walking boots and leggings. And, of course, food and water, as well as Bibles, treatises and teaching materials. After about an hour and a half, we reached 13,000 feet, and I really started to drag around because of the height and the heavy pack, so I asked Orlando if he would take it for half an hour or so. He agreed, and we took off again, what a change - now I could keep up with him, and he was the one who stopped! He carried my bag for about an hour and then asked me to take it back. An hour later, we were still climbing through the snow, and I was exhausted, so I asked him to take it again. The trail finally began to level, and after 30 minutes we reached the road and a wooden cross along it, approximately 15,600 feet. Orlando said we were on cruz, and if I were alright to go alone from there. I asked (or tried anyway!) To get into the “steep” (road crossing), which was now in sight. He assured me that Ojolo was "that way" and pointed across the plain to where there was a valley that looked somewhat familiar. I was also on this part of the road, and it looked like the crossing of the road might be several miles away, on the other side of the ridge, so it sounded reasonable. I shared cheese and bread with him and was ready to start myself, but he offered to go a little further with me, so I gladly agreed.
After about 15 minutes, he again asked if I was okay alone, and I said “yes”, as there were two sets in the snow, which were easily yielded. He stood and looked at me for another 10 minutes or so, and then returned. I was so grateful that I decided to hire a guide and that God provided a good one, because I didn’t know if I could do it alone. The trail was not so difficult to follow, and there was less snow than I expected, but I am not sure that I could complete it. Despite the fact that it was all down, I had to stop to rest many times and walked much slower than usual. I was hoping to do it in less than eight hours, but it took 10 hours! With the exception of a few people with llamas that we met right outside Charkan, I did not see anyone until I was almost up to Oyoo. A couple of hours from Oiolo there were several cattle on the trail, but they allowed me to pass without problems (everyone here has long horns).
When I rested a bit after arriving at Ojolo, a little girl called Ada Luz came up to me and said: “Take my photo. She remembered that I had a camera and she photographed her before. After moving to Cotahuasi, let my colleagues know that I arrived safely, I checked the local hostel, boiled some eggs for dinner and went to bed early. In the morning I went to Surf, taking a little more than five hours instead of the usual four, partly because I got lost and ended up coming down from the mountain from Chakuanamarca, and partly because of the heavy packaging. On the way, I met Victor, a man living in a hut along the path, and he wanted a Bible. I was glad to give him one, for his benefit and mine - a few ounces less in my package! In Taucha, I covered it even more, delivering Bible-learning Flora and the heavy, large printed Bible to Sebastian. Of course, by this time I was at the end of my trip, so it made no difference to the weight, from there I was planning to ride in a truck, because there was no combo that day.
Unfortunately, it was the first day of the new bus service in Puchacho, so there was a big party in the village, and the truck driver was in no hurry to leave. Finally, at about 4:15, as soon as the beer bottle was going to contact him again, I went and asked him when we were leaving (they stand in a circle and pass a large beer bottle and a glass around). He said that he was checking whether the truck was ready and missed his last “one for the road”, and in a few minutes we were on the way. By this time, the sun was just setting behind the mountain, and it was cold in the back of the open truck. I put on one fleece jacket, but could not find another, I must have lost it on the bush to the village. I was grateful that I had a sleeping bag and used it as a poncho during the last half of the four-hour drive to Paus, arriving at 20:30.
In Paus, I met Cindy and Claudia, whom I met there in May, along with a team of missions from Florida, and spent the next two weeks working with them. At the end of that time, I learned that they had a rented 4x4 Suzuki, which was to be returned to Arequipa, so I returned it to them instead of returning to Cotahuasi.
