Cerro Austria is stunning peak located in the spectacular Condoriri Valley a few hours outside of La Paz, Bolivia. At 17,698 feet it can be easily done in a day however you need to spend the night at the base camp to properly acclimatize before the hike. It took only three hours to climb up from our base camp at 15,500 to the summit of Cerro Austria at 17,698 feet (5,396 meters). Thankfully we had left early because a storm was moving in. If we didn’t get down soon we would be trapped.
The view atop Austria Peak were outstanding but the darkness in the clouds is what made us want to move fast.
I had never heard the eerie sound of thunder in the high mountains before. It is a sound you don’t want to hear. Every rumble and boom bounces off the mountains, echoing in a loud, frightening way. It wasn’t too close yet but it was moving in.
After a hard night’s sleep at base camp, we rose early for our second and last hike in Condoriri Valley. I was relieved that physical exhaustion had finally gotten the best of me and I was finally able to sleep in my iceberg tent at the foot of the glacier. It wasn’t as bitterly cold as the night before and I had finally acclimatized to our base camp elevation of 15,500 feet.
The sun was rising and the only sounds we heard were of the wind and of our cook Eugenia, preparing our morning meal. Today’s hike was going to be a big one. We would climb about three to four hours up to the top of Cerro Austria also known as “Cerro Negro” to an altitude of 17,698 feet/5,396 meters. It would take us another 3 hours or so to descend depending on our speed.
I was a little bit weary of the hike because once again our guide Javier called it an “easy trekking peak that can be reached via moraines and rock slopes with no technical difficulty” in our itinerary. After a day of trekking with Javier, a serious mountaineer, I realized that “easy” for him meant something entirely different for my dad and me. But of course I was determined to make it.
The only concern for the day was the weather. A storm was coming in so we had to leave as soon as possible so we wouldn’t get caught in it. The thought of being caught in an electrical storm made me uneasy but I trusted Javier’s experience and knowledge of the high Andes. He had been climbing for over 30 years. If he didn’t know these mountains, no one did.
“Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature”. – Gerard De Nerval
Every year, Macy’s Department Store rewards the public by putting on an incredible flower show at its five flagship stores in the United States. It is the highlight of my month because Macy’s Annual Flower Show falls at the end of March, right before spring break when everyone in Minneapolis is just plain sick and tired of our long, barren, colorless winter.
What makes this event even more wonderful is that it is free and the theme changes every year. This year, the theme is “Art in Bloom” and with the help of local florist Bachman’s, the show features thousands of eye-popping, gorgeous flowers juxtaposed with various movements of the arts resulting in a “horticultural art gallery” of color and fragrance.
Despite my head cold, I could smell the flowers as I rode the escalator up to the eighth floor of Macy’s in downtown Minneapolis. I could take the elevator but I find riding the escalator up way more fun as each floor the smell of flowers escalates. I brought only my iPhone 6 along as I wanted to see how much the technology has changed from my old iPhone 4 camera to the 6. It was remarkable and I still cannot believe that these photos are real.
Take a peak for yourself and walk with me through Macy’s “Art in Bloom” where we will pass through Classical Art, Impressionism, Modern Art and Pop Culture Art. I am certain these photos will brighten your day!
Rising up from the Pacific coast, the Andes mountain range is the longest and the youngest mountain range on the planet. After the Himalayas, it is the second highest range and is still growing. The Condoriri Valley lies within the 100 kilometer-long Cordillera Real mountain range northeast of La Paz, that separates the lowlands of the Amazon River basin to the east from the high plateaus of the Altiplano (highlands) to the west. The Cordillera Real is the most accessible and spectacular mountain range in the entire country and I could hardly wait to experience it on foot.
Our first big climb in Condoriri Valley was to Mount Jaillaico at 16,899 feet (5,152 m). Known as the “Mirador”, our trekking guide called it a relatively “easy” trekking peak that can be reached through grassy hills, glacial moraines and rocky slopes with no technical ability. Basically it is a warm-up climb for those serious mountaineers who are hoping to climb some of the bigger beasts in the area like the mighty Huayna Potosí (at 19,974 feet/6,088 m) or Illimani the highest mountain in the Cordillera Real at 21,122 feet/6,438 meters.
I wasn’t sure what Javier meant by “easy” but starting out from our base camp at 15,500 feet on only a few hours of restless sleep did not make this a walk in the park. In fact, the first hour into our trek I wasn’t exactly sure that I would be able to make it, I felt so light-headed and fatigued. Every step was an effort and I felt out of breath. But thankfully, as I focused more and more on my breathing I felt better.
“A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty”. – Winston Churchill
Sleeping in a tent at 15,500 feet is not for everyone. In fact, after the first night I had the unfortunate realization that it was not for me. After a restless, freezing cold, tossing and turning night of sleep I rose to the sound of a barking farm dog feeling completely exhausted. How on earth was I going to make the first big hike? I felt like hell.
It quickly dawned on me why we were the only ones stupid enough to be at the campsite. Instead of the usual 100 tents or so during high season, there were only three and they all belonged to us. Sleeping with rough winds, thunder and a deep burning freeze of 15 degrees farenheit on frozen solid ground was not my ideal way of spending my vacation. Apparently the others who were not there figured that out way before us.
But again, every negative has its positive. We had the entire, beautifully serene place to ourselves. And perhaps it was worth the temperamental weather. Obviously camping and hiking with hordes of people was no where near as special and amazing as being completely, utterly alone.
The first night, I did learn a few important things about sleeping so suddenly at altitude. First of all, you simply don’t sleep on the first night. It is impossible. Your body tosses and turns and you wake up a million times throughout the night while you struggle to acclimatize to the lower amounts of oxygen. At one point, my heart was beating so fast I was scared. But then I remembered the test for altitude sickness. Nausea, severe headache, dizziness and an inability to sleep. I had only one symptom but my worry about getting altitude sickness when I was hours on foot away from civilization unfortunately kept me up more.
I was on the plane Friday morning heading to New York City when I opened my email to see that the weekly photo challenge was walls. Instantly I knew how I was going to spend my free afternoon in the city. A photo walk.
I did a google search and discovered that New York City has a tremendous wealth of street art along its walls, buildings and store fronts. I love street art and knew that it would be a great way to spend the afternoon exploring some of the back alleys and streets in the heart of Little Italy and NoLlta in search of street art.
I took the subway to Spring Street and got off with a map in hand and a few written notes of where to explore. It was a chilly early spring day yet the sun was shining strong and the city was alive as usual with activity. I could tell it was going to be a great afternoon.
Spring Street subway stop offers my first look at urban wall art.
“I think it’s my adventure, my trip, my journey, and I guess my attitude is, let the chips fall where they may”. – Leonard Nimoy
Within an hour our entire campsite was set up and our home for the next few days was ready. It had been awhile since I had camped outdoors, and I had never camped at 15,500 feet before. Although it was nearing summer, I knew that it would get cold once the sun went down and the winds picked up speed, sweeping cold air off the ice of the glacier.
A view from the dining tent. My tent is the small white one in the background with the glacial tongue shortly behind it.
Since we had an hour or two before dinner, we decided to explore our surroundings by taking a short hike to the mouth of the glacier. The rain had stopped but the wind was fierce. We had heard that this time of year can be rather temperamental in the Andes which explained why we were the only ones there at the camp site. In another month or two, it would be filled with tents and trekkers. Yet despite the questionable weather I felt lucky to have the entire view to ourselves.
“We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open”. – Jawaharlal Nehru
We had reached our first test of adventure getting to the base camp at Condoriri Valley when we arrived at a collapsed bridge. Heavy rains that are common during the early summer season of November had washed it away and Javier, our guide, informed us that in rural Bolivia, infrastructure like roads and bridges are the responsibility of the village. Therefore, everyone in the neighboring community was required to spend the day repairing the bridge. No one in the community was excluded from helping out, even the women and children had a role.
Thankfully we had a land rover that enabled us to drive off road otherwise we would have been stuck. The bridge is essential for the community as is the gravel road that is a five-hour walk from the base of Condoriri Valley to the main highway. For those without cars, it is a long commute to civilization either on foot or bicycle. I learned that rural Bolivians are hardy people.
As we drove further and further away from the main road, the dramatic scenery became even more breathtaking. We passed traditional rural homes made of mud bricks layered tightly one on top of the other, covered with thatched roofs, and the brownish-green rolling hills of the glacier moraine that rest below the mighty Andes.
“Mountains are not stadiums where I satisfy my ambition to achieve, they are the cathedrals where I practice my religion.” – Anatoli Boukreev
There is something about leaving a big city and heading out to the countryside that truly shows the meaning of a place. Whenever I travel, I try my best to see both urban and rural parts of a country. While I enjoy the adventure and activity of a big urban city, for me getting out of it is the best part of all. I love the mountains, hills, and countryside. For it is within nature that I often feel the most alive.
Clouds thicken with rain at the foot of the Condoriri Valley in Bolivia.
Back in November, my father and I spent three days in La Paz, Bolivia acclimatizing to the high altitude and gearing up for our base camp at the foot of the Bolivian Andes in the Condoriri Valley at 15,500 feet. Landing in El Alto, the highest international airport in the world at a dizzying altitude of 13,323 feet (4,061 m), is not for the lighthearted nor is spending three days exploring the hilly, high altitude urban jungle of La Paz (which happens to be only slightly lower in elevation than her neighbor El Alto).
By the third morning, I was ready to leave the craziness of La Paz behind for a few days and go find myself in the beloved mountains. I’ve always loved the mountains as it is the one place in the world that I can truly find peace and reflection. Furthermore, I truly enjoy a good physical and mental challenge and that was just was I was about to get over the next few days hiking in Condoriri Valley.
When I first told friends that I was going to Haiti I got a lot of negative responses. “I would never go there” scolded a doctor friend of mine. “It is way too dangerous” warned another. Sadly the media has not painted a pretty picture of Haiti. Over and over again we have seen images and read articles about the devastation, poverty, political instability and disease, that makes Haiti sound like some kind of backwater, scary place. People thought I was crazy to go there.
As a seasoned traveler who has been to some rough places, I made sure I did my research. I talked to friends who had been there before and all of them said I had to go. That it would change me. And it did.
Now I want to share with the world the good things about Haiti. The stuff the media doesn’t cover because they want to sell a story. I’m not going to talk about the tent communities, the lack of infrastructure and health services. That will come later. Instead, I’m going to tell you about the spectacular art I saw on my trip visiting the artisans who work with Heart of Haiti.
Some of the amazing art produced in Haiti for Artisan Business Network.
One thing I learned is that Haiti is a nation of artisans. With a population of a little over ten million people, some estimates report that almost half a million Haitians rely on the handicraft sector as their primary or secondary source of income. No other sector employs such a high percentage of people in Haiti. Furthermore, art is an enormous part of Haitian life and culture and can be found nearly everywhere even in surprising, unexpected places.
The devastating 2010 earthquake that tore apart Port-au-Prince significantly hurt the artisan trade. Per Nat Tancrede, Executive Director at ABN (Artisan Business Network), the once thriving handicraft sector was almost destroyed. Before the earthquake it was reported that around 40-50 containers of artisan produced goods left Haiti weekly to the United States during the peak years of 1980-1985. Yet, in 2010 after the earthquake only six containers were being shipped a week. For a nation that depends on the handicraft sector, it had strong implications for the economy and the lives of the artisans. Today, the handicraft sector is continuing to grow and provide more sustainable incomes to both women and men, and Nat foresees even more opportunity down the road.
For a culture that is so strongly connected to art, Haiti is an art lover’s dream yet it remains relatively undiscovered. Art truly is everywhere in Haiti. Along the walls and sides of buildings and even on the side of the street lies handmade metal art, statues, papier-mâché and paintings. It was something that really surprised and amazed me.
The mountains are calling and I must go. – John Muir
In my opinion, there is nothing better than a good long hike to the top of the world. Getting there is half the fun and once on top, there is nothing more rewarding than a spectacular view. I have loved to hike my entire life and here are some of my favorite rewards through my journeys.
After ten days of hiking the world-famous Annapurna Trek, we arrived in gorgeous Pokhara, Nepal for a few days rest and enjoyment of the Diwali festival of lights. If only I had started my blog before this trip and understood the power of photography. Looking back my photos do not do Nepal justice as it is by far one of the most beautiful places on earth.
Pokhara, Nepal
Bolivia
I still haven’t finished writing my posts on our four day visit to the sensational Condoriri Valley in the Bolivian Andes. I hope to work on that this month because the photos are tremendous and it is a very special place. The pain of sleeping in a tent at 15,000 feet in below freezing weather was worth the incredible, rewarding views.
We arrived near the Champs de Mars in central Port-au-Prince a little after six for our night of music and light-soaked adventure at Carnival. Given the fact that there are very few tourists in Haiti, we had hired an additional security person for the night to help us arrive safely at our stand where we would watch the festivities from above. I admit that I was a little nervous about getting to the stand safely as the streets were already packed with people and getting across the street proved daunting.
We lined up in single file, placing our cameras and anything of value inside our shirts and wormed our way into the mayhem of a crowd-filled street. It wasn’t as bad as I anticipated but knew as time went by, the streets would only get more crowded and getting out of Carnival would be a challenge. But I decided to not think of it at the time and simply embrace the experience.
Getting across the street in this crowd proved challenging.
We made it across the street to the entrance of the Minister of Tourism stand, where we passed through a group of armed guards who insured we had our Minister of Tourism Carnival t-shirts on and a wristband. If you didn’t have one on, you were not let in.
The stand was already crowded with people and we found a crammed spot in the front overlooking the street below. By standing on a chair, I got a bird’s-eye view of the festivities and realized that it would never have been possible to attend Carnival if we weren’t in a stand. The streets were so crowded that it resulted in a lot of pushing and shoving and I’m shocked that more fights didn’t break out. The atmosphere was festive but intense. There were smiles across the faces but unfortunately my amateur photographic skills especially capturing movement and night scenes do not depict it.
