12
Wishing I had brought more than a machete and a backpack of food and that small first aid kit. You don't travel in this country other than light, however, unless you want to pay porters. And I knew they wouldn't want to go where I was wanting to. Sure, there's that GPS beeper if I get in trouble, but that shouldn't be a problem.No, the greater deal was that I was working on an ancient description of where this thing was and the paths it described were all overgrown. It was easier to follow game trails, which did more or less follow those old worn paths. These roads had been used for hundreds of years before the civilization seemed to just vanish. And the growth was bad. Often, you could only work out the trail by looking up - and seeing where the trees parted on both sides, being thin in the middle.
Still, the vines were tough and over grown, sometimes thicker than my forearm. I only cut the ones I needed to. Those old movies of people hacking their way through the forest don't also show them taking breaks every 15 or 20 minutes to recuperate. I quickly found out the fastest way was finding a way around instead of going through.
Steep bluffs were the most troublesome. 30-40 foot drop-offs forced me to go up or downstream to find a tributary or gorge which would afford me access. And then I had to do the same thing on the other side. That river meanwhile was a twisting, curling mess, as it would double back on itself within a quarter mile. Of course, it wasn't during the rainy season, so it was mostly a shallow, gravelly mess on the bottom, covered with regular dead-falls of old trees and bunched-up brush with nasty traps set from rotten water-soaked wood if you tried to cross broadside.
And mosquitoes were everywhere. Sweat rolled off in mini-rivulets, but I had to preserve the water in my canteen for the miles ahead.
Finally the path broke free of jungle growth and I was moving away from the river again. Here, the game had found that the old roads were more easily traveled and left a path. It looked like the ground was too tightly packed for much growth, but that packing had also left the road lower than the surrounding forest on each side. So there were many soft spots to walk around. Still not easy going.
What was I doing this for? I had to remind myself of the cache of hidden knowledge which legend says was stored in that old temple so long ago. Sure it said riches, but I knew the other meaning. And if there were valuable data there, it would be on the walls, whatever were still standing.
A clearing broke ahead, odd for this part of country. As I move forward, the growth parted and I felt more solid under-footing, as if the original stone road was under there somewhere. The road was straight now, and the misty sunlight was hiding whatever was still in front of me to discover. While my heart began beating quicker, I worked to still it and stay calm. Just because I had been traveling for weeks to get to this spot, and more than half a day away from the Jeep I left on the jungle's closest navigable trail, I still needed to get back that same way.
My hopes nearly got dashed with what I saw next.
The road broadened out to a clearing was empty, except for saplings which had started growing there. No temple of rock rising out of the forest floor. No huge monolith inscribed with ancient writings. Just an empty clearing filling with what new growth could penetrate that underlying rock floor, which showed through where old slabs had been uplifted here and there by the tree roots and weather.
Still picking my way forward, I reached into my pack to extract my camera and recorder. Just then, I stumbled.
Fell, more like it. And kept falling.
Because there wasn't anything to grab hold of on my way down or anything to stop my fall with outstretched arms.
I could see the opening dwindling above me which had been hidden by vines drop away above me, but my concern was not busting my head or ribs or something else when I eventually landed. Odd that I could think clearly during all this. Events seemed to slow as my mind apparently sped up. But the worst I was getting was some massive scrapes and bruises as I the vines and roots I ran into kept slowing my downward progression and I was finally able to grab several in order to halt in some awkward position an unknown distance from wherever "down" finished.
I hung there, suspended, until I could figure things out.
Light wasn't clear here, the bulk of it was streaming through that small hole I had punched in the grass and vines above. Meanwhile, my fall had taken me past more of these, which tended to snap back and fill that space I had come down through. And no, it wasn't easy to get to some sort of flashlight, since these were in my backpack, which was now twisted behind me in a painful contortion as the straps cut into my shoulder - but at least it was still there. Again, this wasn’t like the movies.
So in that dim view, I carefully found thicker branches and vines to move to and got myself upright again. Sorting out the backpack with a free hand did allow me to fish out a light - which I quickly clipped by it's lanyard to my waist so I wouldn't lose it. It dangled below me by a foot or so as I took my free hand to get more secure and more comfortable, my breath still ragged and I worked to calm the body down after that excitement.
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