Lares Trek

Chalo (the owner of Las Chullpas- the bed and breakfast where I am staying) asked me to co-guide a trek to Lares with him and without hesitation, I agreed. When I finally had a few moments of silence with myself I realized I had no clue what I had gotten myself into. I came to find out we were leading a four day trek to Lares (a trek I had been wanting to do for some time) for twelve 15 and 16-year old Australian kids and three of their teachers. Sounded good to me. Again I was dabbling with quite high altitudes and about two hours into the venture we were already dealing with one little gal with mild altitude illness. No fun. The scenery was spectacular with views of the valley I just couldn't get over. I think I took one million pictures of it as we ascended into the tops of the surrounding mountains.
The first night was great (if you are into ice crystals). It was literally freezing and this time I wasn't the only one bothered by the chill. The next day I donned my bright yellow snow pants and vowed not to part with them until we had descended to an elevation where I once again could feel warmth in my most distal digits. Day two was accompanied by numerous sick kids. These little chaps weren't very used to the outdoor life and as a result they were really feeling the repercussions of being at such heights. I forced myriad pills, probably gallons of water down their throats and more often than not was showcasing the cool look of wearing both front and back packs in an effort to lighten their loads. At one point we had a little gal who was feeling so ill that we put her on a horse so as to get her to camp faster. But you can't just put a child on a horse and send her off into the hills with some man who doesn't speak her language. So Chalo decided it would be best if I would sprint after the horse as it galloped up the largest mountain in sight. Once I reached the top, huffing and puffing and swearing my lungs were bleeding from such an effort at an insane altitude, I learned it was the highest point of the trek... Well, at least she had a comfy ride... That quite possibly could have been the most difficult physical activity of my life.
All in all I was pretty darn happy with the trek, it didn't even really bother me when it started pouring rain... for two days...Dry season, my eye! So there I was in the hot yellow pants, with mud up to my shins, layers of every shirt I brought, my rain coat and a poncho (which resembled a giant trash bag more than anything else). Clearly, I was the epitome of fashion. The fourth and final day couldn't have been more beautiful! There were birds chirping, the sun was shining, the kids were happy and we were headed to the hot springs! Oh my stars and garters, what a way to end a trek! There were six pools varying in temperature and clarity of water and that stinky sulfur water never smelled soooo good.