So, what is Brasil trying to tell me? Philadelphia lives here? What else?
So, |I go to the bank, this morning, and I run into my long lost Brazilian hermano. Apparently, I am right on target with current Brazilian hiking fashions. Who would a thunk?
To the Mountain...
To start the day, I awake to a tarantula outside my bedroom. Terri, Val, Jan, Eileen and Kathy, I´ll take a mickey any day over this guy.
Right outside the pousada, we see this. What the hell is it?
On the road to the mountain. Strangely, I feel as though I have moved from my Indiana Jones films to Close Encounters of the Third Kind. At least I´ve been consistent with the Spielburg films of my era. Actually, I really want to get Star Wars in here. Looking for my Chewbacca. We´ll see.
I feel like making mountains in my mashed potatoes.
HIKE.
After an uphill climb that I didn´t take pictures of, for safety reasons (my own, focus), this is the top. You are not to walk to the edge, the wind and the vertigo would send you down, you crawl out, lie down, snap your shots and crawl back. Thank you, Roger, our guide, for that instruction.
Etienne on the edge.
Gotta end the day at a local water hole.
This hike to the waterfall was the most difficult of the three days. I was destroyed at the end of it. No jokes from me at the end, just a quiet, tired, hurtin´dude. For the past two days, I have been hanging at the pousada. I will take a small hike this afternoon to the local water hole that is about 40 minutes away. I´m not done yet. Just recharging.
I give you the ubiquitous Brazilian thumbs up from my shadow. Another unbelievable day in a serious of incredible adventures. My life is amazing!
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