Hitting the trail part one

We made it after three grueling days of hiking. Since we have been in Xela, Sam has wanted to hike and do some adventure tourism. We climbed the active volcano outside of Antigua, we climbed hills around Xela, but since day one, Sam has had her eyes set on this trek from Xela to Lago de Atitlan. Night and day, day and night, outside of the Spanish that we spoke to each other Sam couldn`t talk about anything different. Lago de Atitlan is a beautiful lake that is surrounded by volcanoes, mountains and country side and it was on our schedule of places to visit after our month in Xela. Instead of taking the two hour car ride to one of the various towns on the lake, we decided to walk. The program was simple, and on paper, looked relatively harmless. Our tour company, Adrenalina, provided sleeping bags, sleeping mats, transport of our stuff to our final destination (San Pedro, or hippy town) and a cold hard house floor to stay in at the various stops along the trip- most of the time, you would camp outside, but since it is the rainy season, you stay with designated families. All you needed was a sturdy back (first area of concern for me) and some serious grit and determination. Always on paper and within your mind, these treks seem easy to accomplish and would be a breeze to complete. However there are a lot of mitigating factors which we did not envision: difficulty of the trail, the largest a·$hole ever created who was in our group, and of course, your own personal fitness. Looking at myself, I felt ready even though our entire active schedule in Xela could be summed up to one time I had to jog home to get a camera and our relatively simple hike up the volcano the weekend before.
In honor of one of my favorite writers, I will create a quasi running diary of the trek from start to finish:

Day 1: 6 a.m.: Adrenalina picked us up early and we were off, we had our clothes for the trip in a separate bag. Nervous, but ready to leave Xela, we silently bumped along as the van went to pick up the rest of the people in our group around Xela. The next people to enter the van were a family of three: Dad, son and girlfriend from Finland. I hate to do this, but the minute I saw Stefan, the father, decked out in what can only be described as new age safari clothing even though there would be no chance of seeing lions, impatiently and angrily looking at his watch as if he had been timing the van, I did not like him. As the trip progressed, he did nothing to ever repair this image, and I would go as far as to say that he reveled in his awfulness. The last people to be picked up was a couple from Denmark, Jonas and Helena, our age, loads of fun and the saving grace of the trip.

7:30 am: Small talk subsided as we arrive at our starting point, we loaded up our rented bags that smell and look like they have seen better days, probably still wet from the previous sweaty person, we are given our food, water and supplies. The four of us load up our bags, while the family is posturing angrily in the background. It turns out they only packed light shoulder bags and could not carry the extra material that was given to them. Their agent had told them that they should only pack day packs and now had nowhere to put the additional cargo. Stefan, understandably angry regarding the poor communication, refuses to carry any of his stuff and only when our guide says that he has to, does, begrudgingly grabbing his water and sleeping bag. However he flat out refuses to carry his mat, and shoves it at the guide; the guide is loaded to the gills. Finally, I take a mat and extra food and so does Jonas and Helena to lighten the load.

9 am: Up hill, and more uphill. What a start, 3 minutes into the trek, although it is a brisk morning, I am drenched in sweat. Not used to the bag, I am moving slower than usual, but feeling fine. Sam is also doing well, but by the end of the first hour, fatigue has set in and I look up to see Sam, still moving along, but looking a bit like a prize fighter after getting knocked in the face, wobbly, but still in the fight. No one is speaking, probably because they are wondering why they choose this trip.

10:00 am: Our first break, here Stefan takes the chance to have a pow wow with our guide, with his girlfriend. He explains that his girlfriend can`t carry the mat, because, she can`t, and our guide must take it. Without any other choice, the guide takes it, but flat out refuses to take the sleeping bag. Stefan, upset that he has to carry the bag in his hand is not happy and trudges off.
I am doing well, sweaty, but enjoying the hike. It is funny hiking, most of the time you are concentrating on walking and not tipping over some side or spraining your ankle and a lot of the actual allure of the trail is lost since, if you look up, without a doubt a root will come and find you or a rock will move into place to break your toe.
Also, when you hike, like running, you have time to think about: nothing. It is magical honestly, however after this start, I realized something more about hiking, you begin to hurt in areas that you didn`t know could hurt you, like my middle toe on my right foot, or a muscle located I think behind my shoulder blade.

10:45: Moving down hill now and with the slick grass and trail from rain and the cooler temperatures, the terrain is precarious. We move downwards on a switch back trail and this is where I struggled. Before we descended, Mila, the girlfriend of Stefan, dropped the sleeping bag and it tumbled downward. Without any reaction from Stefan to go collect the lost sleeping back, everyone watched as it disappeared into the brush. Sam looked up and Mila looked at Sam and said that, ' I am not going to get, we are better off without it anyways.' The guide collected the bag and handed back to Mila, without any thanks, and Stefan just stood upset that this plague had come back.
By the end, I slipped five times, everyone one of them more theatrical than the first. My first one, I looked a like a cow on roller skates, , my right foot slipped; I tried to stabilize with my left, but this was fruitless as I continued downward. In a panic response, I wrenched my body right to compensate, but ultimately spinning and then fell straight backward. My second was immediately after the guide slipped and I was trying to be the hero and let Sam know about the danger zone when I slipped as well. Finally my last was as if I stepped on a banana peel. My right foot went out and there I was falling backwards with my leg straight out, my arms stiff and pointed outwards while my bum shot backwards.
For my encore, just before level ground, I twisted my ankle.

12 pm: we arrive at our first destination for lunch. As it turns out, this is where we would stay the night. Basically for those at home, we had 15 hours to kill. Luckily, the place we were staying had three houses and one shop that made rationing look like a real feast. You took 5 giant steps and you had traversed the town and now were outside of it. We sat down and had our sandwich to which Stefan remarked that this did not constitute lunch; not sure what he was expecting since we were carrying all of his food.
I brought cards with us and Stefan`s son, Walter, played with us. We learned more tidbits about our conquering hero Stefan. He was quite the traveler coming from time in the Congo and had taken Walter on trips to the ever popular family destinations of : Syria, Lebanon and Iran among others. Walter also gave us a bit of the genealogy of his family, Stefan, apparently is trying to outdo some NBA basketball players in amount of kids, Walter has half siblings from: America, Sweden, Estonia, Finland.

Day 2 tomorrow