I’m posting this for today’s memory because lately, I’ve had a real itch to leave the concrete jungle behind for a hot second, breathe deep and run around in the mountains. Soon….

Breathe, breathe in the air…

7/18/10

I’m bad with numbers, but I have been thinking about it a lot lately and honestly, I would say that on any given work day I pass at least—at least—10,000 people. I mean, I’ve never been closer to a person than when in the metro at 7:45 in the morning. I’ve learned to walk in a dodging manner; always switching sides in order to pass my on average short-legged bystanders whom for some reason never seem to be in a hurry. Flows of people, everywhere, all the time. I live in a city of more than 7 million.

While I love this—I love to see what everyone is wearing, I love to try listening to and understanding conversations (call it eavesdropping if you must), I love to ponder, “Where is everyone going?”—after a while I start to yearn for seclusion. I start to think about how I grew up in a place where you could walk outside in your underwear and no one would ever know, where privacy existed past a gated yard.

However, all the while I had such privileges, I never quite appreciated them–always bored, yearning for people, action. And though I still find the small-town seclusion undesirable, every once in a while, I can think of nothing better than to leave the city, and I’m gonna say it, pop-a-squat wherever I please.

Yesterday I did just that. Max and I were long overdue a trekking adventure, and we drove to Cajón del Maipo—about an hour’s drive—to breathe smog-less air and get the heart beating as we hiked up some rather challenging cliffs. Yes, I fell, and I thought for a second that I hyper-extended my knee. As time wore on my youth, thank God, prevailed and I was jumping from rock to rock as once before.

I’ve said it countless times, but truly, the wonderful thing about Santiago is that in one second you’re in a major metropolitan region, but in less than an hour, you can breathe deep and see no one but the man you love. For me, it is perfect.

 

 

 There were some sketchy spots, and as mentioned above, I didn’t fare well with all, but in the end, to reach this deep ravine bearing pure glacial water was worth it all. To stand and hear your Tarzan chant echoing into an Andes abyss is always worth the effort.