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YOLO Really Means Camping on a Volcano in a Lightning Storm

by:COSCO     2019-08-17
When you ask someone if it\'s interesting, they answer \"it\'s cold\" and the answer is no doubt no. \"Type 2 fun? \" We ask.
\"The second kind of fun,\" they replied . \"
\"But it\'s really cold.
\"Their faces don\'t seem to be full of Frost.
They did not seem to shake.
But they did seem very happy.
I guess it\'s not because they think we\'re cute.
\"City Boy,\" we thought.
Amateur, I think.
I understand now that it is false self-confidence.
Three athletes and tall men in their twenties
We left something on the truck. \"Adios.
They closed the door.
From the bottom, slightly to the left, the three of us are looking up;
Nothing but the blue sky.
The climb never seemed so high when I had sunshine on my cheek and my backpack was still on the ground.
Tilt 40 degrees? No sweat. Altitude?
Did it, did it.
Julia took over Patagonia.
Khumbu dancing with me
Only four hours from the top?
You are mine.
Moving forward, we trek through the black volcanic silt.
Every step we take, we lose 3 inch, just like the people who climb the vertical beach in the cold water.
I don\'t shake rocks from my shoes anymore.
The guide we trusted told us that he did not sleep.
He was hanged.
He drank a lot of whiskey.
He has to have a good rest all night.
Are we moving from the sunflower fields, or are we corn?
I will never know.
Alonso is out of sight.
I will forgive him when he produces Boro Campero ---
God sent the fried chicken sandwich with mayonnaise. -
But when his sleeping bag makes a noise all night, I will remember it again. One hour in.
Her blood sugar is very low.
She needs a Snickers.
It can get very bad, very fast;
In the vicinity of coma, fainting, nausea and loose volcanic trails-
Imperfect combination
No chance to help
Thank God for providing us with the snickers and the Mars bar.
We were on the road again at a sugar peak.
We caught up with the strong pace as the silt rolled over to the edge of the mountain.
There is such a long grass, it has the end of the fork, there is such a long time, you can weave it, give it the tail of the pig.
Does the Hobbit live here?
No one answered.
Do I hear slow applause coming somewhere ahead?
The cloud revolves around a huge, opaque coal triangle, piercing the blue sky in the distance.
At a sumptuous banquet, a dirty guest, the Agua volcano and the countryside of Guatemala.
On the grass in spring, she absorbed all the colors around her.
We have two huge craters resting. We peek in. No lava.
Here is a new cemetery of crushed plastic.
Water bottle, Snickers, Polo Campero. Human waste.
We stuffed the wrapping paper into our pockets.
What is the weight of a little more?
Not far from the top of the mountain, the terrain changed again.
This is a place where the clouds lie, but not where they rest.
The rain began to slow, and then the downpour, and our very intentional step was to anchor in very loose volcanic silt.
There are 1000 small landslides at each step.
The wind accelerated.
I tightened the hood.
Finally, the crater.
We were told, \"it\'s over there.
\"But I can\'t see anything.
When it starts to pour, the air becomes very thin and our knees tremble like Polaroid photos, we can set up tents at lightning speed. (
Yes, this is a sign. )
A four-person tent. who would think of it?
Comfort is like comfort before the tent starts leaking.
At 8: 00, we stopped telling stories.
Our laughter is gone and Alonso starts snoring.
The sound of his sleeping bag began.
As a water bottle supported by the neck and a backpack as a pillow, I also started drifting.
The rain accelerated.
To lighten the weight on my bones, I turned to my back and smiled at the ceiling in the dark.
When the first crack shook us, there was a light behind it.
The rain on the wall and the electricity in the air came down.
I will enjoy it if I sleep at home.
Even if it is cold, I will.
But I thought about it.
We are on the edge of the volcano;
Highest point.
We\'re in a metal-framed tent.
Rubber shoes worn by flies.
We\'re on an open plane.
The highest object
We forgot the welcome signal.
Lightning strikes again.
My friends were asleep or didn\'t realize we were lying in an egg shell with a brass antenna on the stilts.
\"I need to tell you something,\" I explained . \".
\"We are here now,\" Kristina said . \"Julia agrees.
The road has long been submerged.
Falling is more dangerous than not moving.
Alonso fell asleep.
Lightning skips the ceiling of the tent.
In addition to the rain, we watched in silence.
Am I still awake? Or did I drift?
What will the newspaper say?
The remains of three unidentified women were found
What are they thinking?
Camp on the volcano during the rainy season.
Why don\'t they come down?
I was wondering how they found us.
Tomorrow\'s hikers arrive at the crater and discover a shabby tent with smoke coming out of the bare poles.
In the melted tarps, four charred bodies were left with their hood open.
Water bottle for pillow.
Shoes at the door.
I turn to my side, then behind me, then by my side.
Stretch out my legs and roll them back and get my toes wet.
Julia changed too.
I heard Kristina shuffle. The wind;
If lightning does not catch us first, it will surprise us.
10,000 Hail Marys I am not a religious person
It\'s worse to start praying.
The endless night is over
The rain stopped at dawn, but the wind stopped.
Slowly, we went through the flies and into a painting.
The morning sun yawns in the scenery.
Guatemala faded into pastel colors.
All my prayers are 10,000 blue.
Volcanoes surround the horizon.
A field trapped for a few days
It\'s warm somewhere there.
When in nature, nature still calls, there is no way to go with the wind.
\"Pass the baby wipes.
\"The ankle of victory is wet.
\"Please don\'t ask questions.
\"My hat flew off the ridge.
I climbed the ridge.
Is it the scenery or the wind that makes me cry?
The camera is shot in automatic mode.
I laughed when I took a selfie.
Our laughter fell in the valley below. Then we stop.
We accept it together.
\"Lightning,\" I said to Alonso when we removed the tent.
\"I was a little scared.
\"So did I,\" he said, with his arms open to the sky, and his chest blew to his sides with the wind, revealing a stretch of satisfaction. \"Me too.
\"Four hours, two hours.
Acatenengo went with us.
I went down.
The road was infiltrated by debris.
The trees that stood high yesterday were separated.
Alonso is out of sight.
Oh, what we do is to see the scenery.
I put my socks at the bottom.
I shook my shoes and watched a dog snooze under the pick-up --up truck.
It\'s our turn to stretch out in the sun.
Our car stopped in front of us around the corner.
We are exhausted with bare feet.
Bright eyes and thick tail, Alonso jumped up in front.
Just before we fell asleep, the driver asked us if we had a good time.
I replied, \"it\'s cold.
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