over to the same rock. The difference today is that the biting ants have decided the rock is theirs and, when I get on the mule, my foot begins burning from the biting. I tell David I am being bitten and he graciously starts smashing the ants on my foot with his thumb. He kills at least 10 and my left foot is burning. I have made sure that I have my “Don’t bite me” mosquito patch on and I’m ready to not be eaten. I have also made a point of greeting the mule before I got on and neither of us seem as annoyed as the day before- he actually made eye contact.
The hills down to the river are significantly steeper than the day before. At the top of a significantly steep downhill, the porter stops and calls out to David and Rob. Rob comes over and the porter says something to him. I figure I need to walk b/c the mule can’t do it with me on his back. However, the porter has told Rob that the mule can do it, but he’s worried I’ll be afraid (I am.). Rob tells me to lean back. He asks if there is anything on the back of the saddle that I can hold on to. I tell him there is a rope and he suggests 1 hand on the saddle horn and 1 hand on the rope. This is actually very helpful. Not only do I feel more stable and balanced, but I can now actually FEEL the mule and that feels more connected. We head down the steep incline. At one point, about 15 minutes later, I am asked to get off. I’m excited that this is the end of the mule, but it’s just to get down a certain area, then I’m back on. At one point we approach a little stream and David asks if I can stay on the mule while he jumps over. I am convinced that is not a good idea. I now have to get off without the aid of a rock. David suggests that I simply put my stomach on the saddle and slide off. This is not nearly as smooth as it sounds. There are parts of me that stick to the saddle more than others, but I do manage to get off, walk across the bridge, and get back on with the help of a small hill. I get off and on a total of 4 times and David comments that I’m “getting better” at it.
When we get to the river, the tubes are not yet inflated and we must wait. We walk down to the river’s edge to wash the extra mud off our shoes and feet. The water feels cool, but as I sit on a log to wash my feet I realize that I will be losing the nail on the second toe on my right foot (it’s completely black from the bruising) and that the little toe on my left foot is wiggling like a child’s loose tooth. That one will go also. It is suggested that we split into 2 groups and 1 group gets a head start so they can start the hike first. Wendy, Jaime, Erik, and I head into the river with David, Uli, and Uli’s son (also David). We float more or less down the river and, after running into a branch that I get stuck behind and getting caught is a small whirlpool, the rest of the morning is uneventful and very pleasant. We see some amazing birds, including a Kingfisher.
When we get to the end of the tubing, David points out where we are going and mentions it’s a 4-6 hour hike. Rob has been saying 1 ½ hours. At this point, I need to concentrate on David’s estimate so I have a realistic expectation. Besides, if it’s shorter, I’ll be thrilled. We are trying to figure out if we go on, leave a note for Rob, wait for the porters, etc. when the other group comes up about 15-20 minutes later. We all start moving and doing stuff quickly as David and Rob make the decisions that greatly impact the rest of our day. We decide to float down the
When we get out on the other side, I am motivated to not be the last one. We still have none of our trekking gear and are all wearing tubing clothes and life jackets. As we hike up, Rob decides to wait for the porters, who will deflate out tubes and then catch up to us. Ty stays with him. We begin hiking along the edge of a steep bank that drops between 10 and 50 feet to the raging river below. After about 20 minutes, David comes up by Wendy and tells her to take a “fast” group about 2 miles up to the airstrip on the finca we will stay on. A finca is a large family plot of land that is something between a plantation/farm/homestead. He directs the other Germans to go with her, giving directions to Uli in German, and asks who wants to go in the fast group. He tells Wendy to tell them we are coming and how many of us there are. That way they can prepare food, etc. Most of the group goes ahead, but Gwen, Amanda, Justin, and Michael stay with me. I can’t really express how thrilled I am that I’m not left alone. I mentally commit myself to keeping as fast a pace as I can so they won’t regret staying with me.
We start off again. I know we will be chasing light at the end because we haven’t started hiking until 3:20 and it is 4-6 hours. At 6:30 the sun will set and it will be dark by 7pm. The life jacket is immediately too warm for me and I feel like I’m going to burn up. Justin offers to carry it for me. I’m also dying with my swim top under my shirt, so I take it off and stuff it in my pocket after another ½ hour or so. It is not as muddy as the day before, but the path is only about 8-12inches wide. There are many places where you can’t put both feet next to each other. The right edge is very soft and falls down to the river (if you live from falling through all the trees and undergrowth on the way down). After a while I stumble and I catch myself with my right hand on a large rock. I have gashed my palm, but we have nothing with us so David just tells me to suck on it a while. It will continue bleeding and pulsing for a couple more hours. At another point, my right leg slips off the cliff and is dangling into a bush filled with something biting (I’m guessing ants.). I’m sitting on my left leg, which has buckled under me. I have no foot hold to push myself up and I’m holding David’s right hand with my left. He asks if I can stand up, but there is really no way that is going to happen. Eventually, I can get the walking stick into some firm enough ground about 2 feet below the path. It is enough that I can stand against it with my right foot and get my left foot out from under me. Then we are off again. Between 5-6pm, the porters, Rob, and Ty catch up to us. We let the porters past, Rob passes us, and Ty stays with us. Ty staying is a good thing. After 6:30, we have very little drinking water and only 1 light between the 7 of us. David stops every once in a while to take pictures, show us the moon, or decide which way we should go. We learn that he’s never taken this path (that’s not comforting). We’re hoping someone decides to send folks back with lights and water. Once it is totally dark, Ty hands up a head lamp. I put it on and am second behind David. I need to keep looking back to give light to the others behind me, but I need to keep my gaze down so I don’t blind them with the LED light. Every time I glance back, I can see the reflectors on the life vests and a reflector on the top of Ty’s backpack. I can quickly count to 5 to make sure everyone is still there. Around 7:30, some of the guys from the finca come out to meet us with 2 flashlights. They don’t have extra, just their own, but it is a little bit of help.
By 8pm, everyone is mentally and emotionally fried from the hike. I’m starting to get sarcastic, but I know that the only other option when I’m pushed that far is to break down and cry. I’m not ready to do that. At this point, the man who has been in front of us starts to take off. Everyone except me goes with him. I just simply have nothing left. I’m still too warm, I’m shaking because I’ve pushed too hard, and I’m feeling dizzy. I have not let go of David’s hand for the past 45 minutes or so and will not until we actually get to the finca. One of the men from the finca stays with us. It turns out he is the son of our host. David chats with him while I struggle along behind him up and down the rocky, muddy, cliffs. I can see the lights of the other group up ahead so I know we aren’t that far behind. The scene has started to change. We are walking through some of the corn fields planted on the steep slopes. We cross a few more streams, but they’re not clean enough for me to consider drinking out of them, even though I’m extremely thirsty by now. We walk through a cacao field and then across a final, small river. The option is to cross over a log or just walk through the stream. We decide to walk through and the cool water feels very refreshing on my legs and feet. The stream is very clear and I drink some water knowing the risks. As we climb out of the other side, we approach the 
grassy airstrip of the finca. We see someone running toward us and it’s Rob with water and a light. He is surprised to see us because the other group has told him we’re still 45 minutes behind them. We actually made better time when I didn’t have to keep turning around to give the others light. We were only about 15 minutes behind them.
As we walk in, Rob points to 2 buildings. One where all our gear is and the other where there is food. I’m not at all sure I can eat, but I’m also not sure I can face the group. I’m also so wiped out that making any sort of decision feels unbearable. Very quickly, Lisa comes running up to me and gives me a hug. She tells me that she’s been praying for my safety and that they were really sorry they left. I can finally admit to her how scared I was and that I’m glad someone actually missed me. As I start to break down, Lisa brings me over to the water basin and offers to wash my feet. When I sit in the chair, I begin to cry from exhaustion, fear, relief, etc. As I’m being cared for by Lisa, Amy, Wendy, Jen, I feel very loved by this group. I get some water with electrolytes and we share stories about our day. I find out that the group that went ahead of me had a scary experience of Michael falling off a cliff and 3 people needing to pull him up. The initial group that arrived was not greeted too warmly and were actually told that our hosts had been trying to cancel because the trail to get supplies was not in good repair. After I’m cleaned up, I try to eat, but I can’t get anything down. We go out to the small building we’re all sleeping in, change clothes, and lay down to sleep. I’m glad I’m back with people who care about me, though I must say that David was amazing as he walked me through the last 2 hours of our journey.
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