Surrounding me in every direction for miles upon miles was lush green Lao jungle. Our only connection to anything beyond the endless foggy wilderness was a small satellite phone lodged deep in our group leader’s backpack.
We pushed our way through the dense jungle ducking under tree branches and continued our safari through the wet terrain. We were all ecstatic; the beauty and life around us was intoxicating as we trekked through the jungle laughing and smiling.
Along with a few others, Cat and I were ahead of the rest of the group. After an hour or so we reached a fork in the muddy path. Our one guide who spoke no English pointed to the right and we continued, now walking along side a loud rushing river.
The trail curved and abruptly ended on its bank. Precariously hooked to a tree near the edge was a tight metal line paralleled by another above it. They were strung above the swirling rapids and stretched across to the other side where the path continued.
Me, making my way across
With no instruction we clipped on and edged our way across; I was first. My adrenaline was flowing - I couldn’t believe what I was doing. One foot in front of the other, balancing my way across. My heart was pounding! I felt like I should be scared but I felt strangely invigorated. I had never done anything like this before, let alone deep in the heart of a rainforest in Asia. At the time we all felt like this was one of the craziest things we’d ever done - little did we know what the day had in store for us.
We continued for hours through the dense jungle and then the fog thickened. The looming shadows of trees and brush began to fade as we entered a clearing. Before us lay a foggy plain surrounded by more jungle.
Our feet slipped along the ground which was smooth rock covered in thick moss. Beautiful purple flowers sprung up in alluring patches. Small streams trickled down to the shiny ground.
I felt like I was in the middle of the forests from Avatar. We walked from one extreme biome to the next, another planet it seemed, a planet shrouded in fog and flowers.
At the edge of another clearing our group stopped and our leader told us we were now about to descend into the valley of the plateau. The climb down was very steep; he warned us to be careful and go slowly. Muddy fall-out, slippery rocks, and downed trees lined our “path”. But what surrounded us was nothing short of incredible. I couldn’t believe where I was.
My whole life I dreamed of traveling. Starting from a young age I was borderline obsessed with famous monuments and the wonders of the world. I spent my days doodling these landmarks and daydreaming about seeing spectacular sights all over the world. In art class there were tall stacks of magazines lining the back wall. Whenever we had free time in class I’d spend my time flipping through the piles of National Geographics or whatever exotic vacation magazines I could find. I was mesmerized by photographs of wonderful animals and colorfully dressed humans in some impossibly far away place. I never imagined I'd ever be venturing around the world to places like those.
Yet here I was, and I never felt so alive.
After our treacherous climb the slope we finally reached some flat ground. But it didn’t last long as we came to an abrupt drop-off. Across the canyon hung to a small wooden bridge - beneath it a giant gushing waterfall dropped 500 hundred feet.
As I reluctantly stepped onto the wobbly bridge, the decaying wood creaked. I felt my adrenaline spike again. Looking down past my feet slowly moving across the slippery wooden bars, the giant fall crashed and roared below me. Did I mention I’m scared of heights? As I looked down from this dizzying height I thought that crossing that bridge was the craziest thing I was gonna do that day. I was so wrong.
~Sam (to be continued)
