On Friday we went to Con Con (a beachy section of town to the North) for a Cabalgata (horseback riding.) I’m going to admit that I thought it’d be lame (my reasoning based on the few times I’ve been on a horse and the week of horse camp that I did when I was 8) but it most definitely was not. As we got our horses and started the trail ride, my horse made it clear that he was not up for being ridden and began fighting with the other horses by getting too close and nipping at them. So they changed my horse.
Now, I don’t have a lot of horseback technical skills. I can sit on top and steer one direction or the other, presuming the horse is walking slowly and calmly. So when my horse took off galloping away from the group (with me perched on top), I had no idea what to do. I pulled on the reins and leaned back and “Whoooaaaa”-ed by every thing I tried seemed to just encourage her to go faster. We went speeding over a sand dune and into a corner of bushes. I breathed a sign of relief when we stopped and began to try to encourage my horse to turn back to the group. She had other plans. She turned toward the wall of bushes (which towered over my head) and plowed straight through. All that my group could hear was me yelling, followed by leaves rustling and twigs breaking as we went tromping through the wall. Forgive this Harry Potter reference but I felt as though I had been through platform 9 ¾. Once through the bushes we sped towards a river, splashed through it at top speed, and finally slowed to a trot. I remember being at Girl Scout camp when I cantered on a horse for the first time, quite on accident. I had been surprised and terrified, and the counselors made a big deal about it (as counselors do.) Here I was, galloping for the first time, out of control, but it was seen as no big deal.
We switched my horse again (the guide’s recommendation.) The third horse was wonderful and speedy. As we continued walking along the dunes, the setting transformed into a scene from Aladdin. Sand blew down the dunes in ripples and our horses galloped through the sand as if we were chasing 40 thieves or escaping The Mummy. We reached the beach: beautiful blue waters and seagulls flying everywhere. To ride along the beach is spectacular; the wind blowing, waves crashing, sun at your back. It was practically out of a movie. Our horses galloped along, going as fast as they wished along the entire stretch of beach.
My new favorite moment in riding a horse is the transition from trot to gallop. Trotting is no fun at all. Your bum bangs on the saddle and you can feel every bit of skin and fat heaving up and down. But breaking into a gallop is like taking off in a plane. All of a sudden everything is smooth and your moving with the horse. With each stride I was terrified of falling off, holding on for dear life, and exhilarated all at once. Derek pointed out that we consistently are throwing ourselves into activities that we are maybe not quite ready for (snowboarding, horseback riding, etc...) Hah!
There's this cove of bright blue water surrounded by rocks and seagulls and mountains. And then, a small lake (lagoon, I guess you'd say) that is bright clear, like looking into an old green bottle. We're going back there in a few weeks to camp. Fabulous. 
would take us nearly back down to ground level, losing nearly all of the previous advancement we'd made on climbing to the top.We finally got down to the cave, which was a rock undercut with piles of pebbles underneath. The view was gorgeous, as always. Mountains, ridges, and peaks coated in a lush green and highlighted by a bright blue sky. We sat and ate some chirimoyas for a while (a fruit.) Then we started our ascent back up the mountain, which at this point was pretty much straight up. But somehow, it didn't feel especially difficult. Our legs and backs were tired, but not exhausted, It was like we were on autopilot. Reaching the top of Qaynapicchu was like gasping deeply and holding the air in your chest. We had a 360 degree view of Peru, her mountains, and the ruins of Machu Picchu. 
