“100% BABY ALPACA” is a presentation on a unique expedition, that a group of students were able to take to South America this winter. The Link School is an expeditionary high school located just north of Buena Vista. Comprised of 
thirteen students and five staff who live and work together in a close communtity. In January they had the opportunity to fly to South America and spend a month in Peru. While they were in Peru they explored many ancient ruins including Machu Picchu and spent a week living with local families, immersed in the language and culture. They also embarked on a five day trek through the high Andes and to wrap up the trip they peaked a 19,000 ft volcano as a group. Over all it was a beautiful trip. The students are recieving a cultural studies credit for this expedition and this presentation is their final. They are presenting a video documentry as an outreach to the local communities this month. There are two showings, and welcome anyone interested in learning about their expedition.
One showing is on Thursday, March 19th from 7:00 – 8:00pm held at the Sangre de Cristo Community room, located on 29780 Hwy 24 N. End in Buena Vista. Then on Friday, March 20th from 6:00 – 7:00 they will be presenting at the Steam Plant on 220 W. Sackett Ave in Salida. For more information please call 719-395-6797
It seemed an ambitious goal…to get all 20 Link School students, staff and friends on top of a 19,100’ peak in southern Peru. For starters, we would have to rise at 1:30 a.m. to eat breakfast and begin climbing the final 4,000 vertical feet from our base camp at 15,000 feet to the top of the volcano. The climb wasn’t mandatory for students and they had the option to sleep at basecamp while others sought the summit, so a successful 1:30 rising time was asking a lot. My guess was that about ½ the students might get up and try it, so when every student was up and ready for the climb this morning I realized I hadn’t factored in the fact that we have the most amazing students in the world! Not only did they all rise at 1:30, pack, eat breakfast, and begin hiking at 2:30, they overcame some of the many challenges high elevations can present, and each and every one of them arrived at the summit 5 hours later.
spiritually charged atmosphere. As we began our trek up the mountain in the dark, surrounded by little pools of light from our headlamps, I heard a hymn being sung in the group ahead of me. The singing spread up and down the hiking line, and those who could and were inspired, joined in. Many hymns were sung, but when the impromptu choir softly sang “O Dreamer,” I knew nothing could sound more beautiful, or speak more clearly about God’s ever-presence, than that hymn did in the 20° darkness with the Southern Cross shining overhead. Sitting on the peak later that morning, the recuperative effects of the day’s prayers were being made manifest all around me.
One of the greatest gifts of the day was the descent from the peak. Usually descending a peak can be grueling business through the steep rocky terrain – after hours of trying, physical effort, hikers turn their toes downhill and, step-by-step, fight gravity back down to the bottom. During this part of most peak days, if you’re not careful, it’s not unheard of to loose one’s toe nails (I lost both big toe nails on a the descent from Halealaka in Hawaii). However, on Misti we were in for a treat. As I’ve mentioned, el Misti is a volcano. Rather than spewing out lava over the millennia, el Misti has spewed out ash. Our descent down was almost entirely in heavy sand. Of the 8 hours or so that it took us to ascend the peak, it took us less than two hours of running down steep ash to come safely back to the cars parked six thousand feet below.
We have been on quite the round of tours during our four weeks here in Peru, but we just had an exceptional tour, in a bit unexpected place. Lake Titicaca is known as the highest navigable lake in the world, because the Peruvian government ordered six gun-ships from England to protect their border on the Lake from Bolivia. With Lake Titicaca in the Andes, the ships were built in over 2,000 parts and then, on their six-year route, taken by train to the base of the Andes, hauled by slaves and mules up the mountains and then reassembled on Lake Titicaca. Our visit was to the Yavari, one of these gun-ships. It is still in the process of being restored, by private owners, to its original 1860’s glory days. This tour provided a walkthrough of Peruvian history, with many of the original parts. While it was interesting to learn about the llama dung fired engine being replaced by the 1908 Volvo diesel engine, the real experience was getting to have the tour from the charismatic captain, Carlos. As the captain of Yavari, Carlos gave orders quickly. Three to be exact. Never stop traveling, never stop reading, and never stop dreaming! He loved that our group was high school students, and his wit and energy made for one fantastic tour. Carlos was passionate about his ship, and loved telling us the ships history, connecting with the students, and recounting interesting details that spurred our desire to learn more. While our encounter was less then an hour, it was a fascinating tour that is sure not to be forgotten any time soon. Just ask about the tour, and you’re sure to get some great story.
I have spent many months in parts of Asia, Europe, and South America and written countless e-mails detailing the events of each trip. The words have always flown freely from me as I react the the new, exciting, and sometimes frightening experiences. Always, I have responses and questions to what I see and I am envigorated by writing about my journeys.
My watch alarm annoys me into wakefulness at 6:21. Rolling over I tell Shawnee that it is time to get up. She agrees but it is another 10 minutes before I get out of bed and another 15 before she does. We pack and talk about the the festival of the Virgen De La Candalias that was happening last night. Thousands of native people dressed in their finest singing, dancing, playing instruments, and drinking. The crowded streets were full of spectators and participants. Smells of food, beer, and urine assaulted my nose, but the energy of the people was contagious. It is fun to walk through a street and relize that people are staring at you just as much as you are looking at them. We finish packing and head out for the day. Today´s agenda is Lake Titicaca and the Uros Islands. The boat ride out is beautiful. The sun, wind, water, and green landscape make for unbelievable eye candy. Stepping onto on of the 42 Uros Islands I felt like I was walking on a water bed. Layers upon layers of totra reeds make up this island. The Uros people use the totra reed for homes, transporation, and food. Antonio our guide, tells us more about the islands and the native people give a demonstration of how the islands are made. It was an amazing follow up to the presentation that Daniel and I gave moments before. After the presentations we walk around the island then get a ride in one of the reed boats. These things only last for about a year until they are rotten and have to make a new one. The boat ride back was warm. I layed in the sun and thought about all that we have done. It seems pretty unreal now that I think about it. We´ve only been in Peru for a little more than 3 weeks and already it feels like home. I honestly don´t want to leave. The landscape, people, and culture is amazing. I love it! Our next stop is a war ship that was built for boarder patrol on Lake Titicaca. This is what makes Titicaca the highest navigatible lake in the world. The captain of the ship gives us a tour and is with out a doubt on of my favorite people on the trip. Lunch with some amazing ice cream comes and goes and before we know it we are back on a bus for a 6 hour ride to Arequipa. It was a double decker bus with two movies that were both shown in spanish with english subtitles. Sleep is nearly impossible and that was all I wanted to do. Finally arriving in Arequipa we get our bags, board another bus that takes us to our hotel, Casa Andina. I like this branch of hotels. Their rooms are comforable with some tv channels in enlish and the showers stay hot. Dinner is pizza, something that I normally avoide, but pizza in Peru is nothing like pizza in America. I actually enjoy the pizza here. Dinner over with, it is finally time to rest for another full day around Arequipa. It is difficult to 
think that our time here is almost over. I have enjoyed ever bit of Peru and I am so grateful for this opportunity. So, I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Link School staff for their constant loving work, my parents for allowing me to go here, the people that with their generous donations made is possible for me to attend this school, all of the guides that we have had here in Peru, and most importantly, Gary and Martin. With out these two men our trip would not be nearly as good as it has been. Thank you everybody for this experience. It has been something I will never forget.
We went over this sacred pass for the Andean people. They carry a stone up the pass and leave it there on the cairns. Everyone in the group carried up a stone, or multiple. We were told to take that rock and make it resemble something we wanted to leave behind. Personally, I took up five rocks. The biggest, which was about a foot long and an inch thick, represented fear. The next four were hate, envy, remorse, and a shin splint. When we eventually made it to the top of the pass there were thousands upon thousands of rocks, and cairn after cairn to be seen. It was so breathtaking to see all of those stones placed by many people for a specific thing they wanted to leave behind. This is what my poem was inspired from.
This past week we hiked through the Ausangate region of southern Peru. To get there it was a long, winding bus ride from Cusco and when we got into the little mountain town of Tinki the bus got stuck so the walk began a bit early. I had been feeling sick and the next three days of hiking were particularly tough for me since I was hardly able to eat or drink. I was getting help through prayer from my friends, family and the staff, but the 5 passes between 15,000-17,000 feet during that time were really hard climbing since I felt miserable. However, on the 4th day I really started to feel better which was good because there was still a lot left to go. This was the best healing I have had in awhile and I was really grateful to feel God at work in my life. In the morning we roll to Lake Titicaca, the peak climb on Misti and more fun!
We started our day shrouded in mist. The glacier that hugs the cliffs of Ausungate was hidden from us, but we could hear massive chunks of ice falling off of it. It had rained for most of the night and by the time we started walking it was beginning to snow. We had two passes to cross today, the second being the high point of the trek. All the way up to the first pass the cloud cover remained. The thought crossed my mind at one point that if I wanted to I could just walk off into the mist and never be seen again. Five people opted not to carry packs today. Gary encouraged us to hand them over to the porters and horses if we felt in any way inclined to do so. It was probably a good thing that people did, because the second pass was quite the long haul. We descended off of the first into this beautiful, lush, green glacial valley. At the head of the valley stood Ausungate and the other surrounding mountains were red. (They reminded me of the hills outside of Lima, Wyoming). The problem with our steep decent into this beautiful valley was that we had to climb back out again. On the way up my legs felt on fire and I could have sworn my backpack was make out of lead. We got passed by all the cooks, porters and horses before we got to the top. But getting to the pass was well worth the prize. We had breathtaking views of all the surrounding mountains. The clouds lifted for just long enough to treat us with quite the eye candy. Ausangate’s climbing route begins at that pass and for a split second we could see the false 
summit. A massive 20,000 ft snow clad mountain (Santa Catalina) rose with intimidating grace and power just behind Ausangate. When I looked back the way we had come I was just as impressed. Smaller, yet jagged, jet black peaks stood like the teeth of a savage animal. The harsh black was accented with the red of the lower mountains. A turquoise lake sparkled in the sunshine two thousand feet below. Clouds swirled in and around us, tickling our faces with their cool kiss. The words majestic, beautiful, magnificent…don´t even begin to do the Andes justice. There are no words for this place. No mere words can describe the silent overbearing power of the mountains. You have to come here to know what I mean. I tote around my camera, snapping shots here and there pretending that they are going to look something like what I am actually seeing. But a picture doesn´t tell you of the silence. A picture can´t describe the perfect snow crystals that stick to my eyelashes and melt on my nose. A picture can´t explain the feeling, or lack there of, in my legs. And yet all of these things are the reason I took the picture in the first place. I have lost myself here. And I am discovering a new me. Mountains 
have always been considered sacred. And Ausangate is the most sacred of mountains to the Peruvians. It symbolizes pilgrimage and purity. People come to the mountain for renewal and a new beginning. That is what I need right now. I want to be washed clean of everything that is troubling me. The stark reality of the mountains is doing that for me. I am currently sitting, well more like crouching on a rather uncomfortable rock. It is moss covered and wet. But I am above our camp and looking down a very beautiful valley onto yet more mountains. A good sized creek is rushing down the mountain off to my left. It tumbles, laughing, over the rocks. It is grey and cloudy from the glacier that is feeding it just above my journaling spot. On the hill side opposite me I can just see the top of Santa Catalina. A glacier coming off of it is melting into a massive cascading waterfall. The horses for our group are slowly munching their way up a ravine. From here I can count eight of them. They won´t get much farther– their ravine tops out in a cliff. I need to find a new rock before I am permanentely moulded to this one.
America, I ask myself. The streets are older and history has formed its wrinkles on the landscape surrounding Cusco. Many centuries of building and destruction have layered the city with Incan walls buried in new architecture. It is hard to comprehend the desire to destroy a culture and its people, as did the Spanish to the Incans. Our world today has not been immune to this destruction and it reminds me that civilizations past and future require us to think deeply about our actions and motives. The Incan ruins in Cusco are a reminder of the past embedded in the new buildings that form a new Cusco. I say “new” loosely because for us, here in America, change can happen within a couple of months. Time flows differently in Cusco and the outlying cities. Change may take many years. To simply fix or build a new road or put up a new building is a process that is governed by the resources at hand, and much of the time those resources are limited.
Early to the airport and a long flight to Miami would cover the next 8 plus hours. On the plane I found myself sitting next to a young woman from London who had just been to Machu Picchu via the Inca Trail. We chatted for a while but soon her eyes were no longer able to stay open. As a teacher that is my worst nightmare, putting my class to sleep, so I hope that boredom was not the cause. Later we continued our conversation and I realized I wanted to speak more Spanish than English. This was apparent when Spanish words would come out during the dialogue. We made our way out of the plane into the Miami airport. It was a hub of activity and our chat continued as we went through customs. She was headed to London, which put her gate at the other end of the airport so I thanked her for her curiosity about The Link School and sharing her thoughts with me.
