| Day 8 (Saturday, March 8, 2008) - Our Last Full Day in Cuernavaca |
Pyramid Tepoztleco - 1300 feet above the town.
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Saturday we visited Tepoztlan, The Magic Pueblo. This trip is a great cultural opportunity and affords us
another chance to stock up on interesting items to sell at our fundraising events. Under optimal conditions,
Tepoztlan is a 30-minute cab ride from Cuernavaca. You know, like: under optimal conditions The Woodlands
to Downtown Houston is a twenty-minute drive.
Tepotzlan is a mountain community at about 7,000 feet above sea level. We came to Tepoztlan last year
but we didn’t go to the Pyramid of Tepoztleco. This seemed like a cultural opportunity missed and it
just wouldn’t be right to miss it again. So we decided that the first order of business once we got
there would be to see the pyramid.
The taxi dropped us off and the 5 of us began the trek down the cobblestone path to the pyramid.
Suddenly, Mister Doctor Bob and Father Ralph de Crocs said, “We’re not going.”
I thought, “OK wimps, we’ll wave to you from the top! You’re loss, Paco!”
The "So happy we decided not to climb it" toast.
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What I did not know was that they had just seen a sign that said the trip was a 4-kilometer walk
to the pyramid. Also what none of us realized it that the pyramid is at 8,311 feet above sea level
and the path up is made up of uneven helter-skelter dirt covered stone.
Let’s review: We have Marilynn, Karen and Dave, three people who are from Houston. What is the
elevation of Houston? Zero or minus 2 or something like that. We three are over…well let’s just
say it’s been a long time since we were in college. In fact, we have kids in college. Karen runs
marathons so she has a chance.
Nevertheless, half way up, we are sucking for precious air. The video I’m taking sounds like an obscene
phone call or a stalker movie. My legs are turning to Jell-o. All this time we are being passed by squeaky
little high school kids who scramble past as if they are the hares and we are the tortoises. And to think
we could have missed this cultural opportunity!
Marilynn and Karen on the steep and slippery climb.
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Finally we made it to the top. This is where one pays admission to walk 100 feet over to the pyramid.
There is also a small drink stand selling sodas and water. The soda and water gets up there a couple
of cases at a time on the back of a young man. This is the same way the bags of concrete get to the level
where the park service is up-grading the path to accommodate over-40 white people from the lowlands. I expect
there will be oxygen vendors along the way soon. The boys who carry the sodas and bags of cement in my
estimation are exchange students from Nepal on the Sherpa –for-rent program.
So… we had our time at the top. The high school kids covered the pyramid, which is about the size of my house.
They were shouting and laughing and jumping around. They were not covered in sweat. They were not gasping
for air. They did not wobble. It was disgusting. So disgusting we decided to start down the mountain. [Besides,
I read Into thin Air, I know what happens if you linger too long at the summit: darkness and storms and
blindness.]
The way down was a break for our lungs but hard on the legs, knees, ankles and feet. Marilynn’s feet
kept sliding to the front of her shoes in a desperate attempt to run away. Dave’s ankles kept twisting
in unnatural ways causing his feet to slip on the dusty rocks. Karen? Karen skipped and sang show tunes.
Soon, the 2-½ hour ordeal was over. Our faithful comrades, Mister Doctor Bob and Fr. Ralph de Los Crocs waited
for us the entire time. They passed the time outlining our obituaries and dividing our recently purchased
possessions between themselves.
Karen, Dave, and Marilynn reach the summit in one piece.
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We struggled to speak and in impromptu sign language asked for food and drink. We celebrated our survival
with a toast. The other two celebrated their decision not to go with a toast. It was toast for everyone
all around.
The rest of the day was kind of a blur to me. I recommend you look at the pretty pictures and draw your
own conclusions. Many, many thanks to my wife, Kelley, who made me bring arnica cream for my feet.
They were swollen and purple Saturday night but fine by Sunday morning.
This is my last anecdotal account of our blessed mission. Many thanks to our Families, prayer partners
and benefactors, especially my employer who allowed me 5 days off and contributed a substantial portion
of the money raised for the mission. Finally, in spite of what you may have heard, I did NOT ghost write
any other daily accounts. Everybody wrote their own, really.
Que La Paz del Senor queda
Con ustedes siempre,
-dh
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