Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


Okay here is the view from the hammock hanging in the house of the father of the woman who went with me to go collecting seeds from native trees in that parroquia where I saw that delicious butterfly. They cooked us corn and cheese and coffee. He makes his own cheese in his house, four blocks at a time. It's good stuff.

I posted a journal entry the other day from a trip I did overnight at Cerro de Arcos. Here is the cave/arch that I made camp in. There are some pics of me in the camp all bundled up from the cold but because it was blustery and misty the flash caught a lot of the mist and screwed the photos up.

Here I am feeling the effects of the dehydration and altitude, but still having a great time explorating all alone up on the ghostly cerro.

View from inside one of the many caves up there and a gorgeous spot of blue sky. Evidence is there that a number of people in the past have spent the night in this cave, presumably because it gives good shelter from the wind.

Here I am waiting for the ranchera to come back and pick me up the next day. I waited for an hour and a half after the time I was told it was returning, then grabbed my stuff and started hiking down to my site, which is about 8 thousand feet below. 25 minutes into the hike, the ranchera grumbles and bumbles up behind me, completely loaded to the gills with tired pasengers. Not sure what happened to make it late, but there was not enough room inside, so I climbed up to the roof to ride the two hours back to my site.


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