Gocta Waterfalls... the descent.

So this one was at the top of my wish list. With great excitement I don hiking boots and hop in the bus. We are again a very diverse group of about a dozen souls. French, Argentinian, American, Swedish, Spanish, Peruvian and me, lone Canadian.

Once more I find myself heading out on winding dirt roads, although this one seems an improvement on yesterdays. The mountain expanse in front of us is butte-like, with horizontal ribbons of the ages showing, topped with an expanse of green and disected at intervals by long ribbons of high waterfalls.

I make an Agouti sighting... think long coated, very large, tailless rat related to the guinea pig family, and that runs like a bunny rabbit. Tres Amazonian. It is served in all the best restaurants.

Our first glimpse of Gocta Falls, in all its splendor, comes along the road into the Pueblo at the start of the trail. We will be teased with sightings of the falls on and off during our trek. The falls are actually comprised of a double fall, and are so high that they can not be seen in their entirety from up close. There are trails to the upper platform, and down to the base of the final fall. It is to this lower area we will trek.

After meeting guide and paying park entrance fee we head out. Gaters on, I will either make it or get carried back out on horseback. The trail starts innocuously, a childsplay stroll next to the road and past a couple of farmers fields. But this is the Andes, so I know I am not going to get off that lightly. We head up, still following farms, and enjoying the vistas. A little down, and then more up... and then down. More down. More down. Deep mossy greens of dense, wet, humid forest, following rock and mud trails. Many butterflies, some salamanders, and of course the Parrots.

Breath in deep the smell of moist, rich, brown decaying matter and soil. Listen to the crunch and squish of our steps, and the sounds of the many birds and frogs along the way. How does decaying earth smell so fresh? Small streams are crossed, and we zig and zag our way to the sound of water that can be heard from the stream below... the waters of Gocta.

We are walking through an ancient burial area and the walled stone cairns line our pathway, a silent reminder of the passage of a great empire. Each contain remains carefully placed in an upright fetal position, with chins supported by hands and arms resting on knees. There are one or two cairns easily seen, the rest are glimpsed through the vegetation that is overtaking them. Trees, vines, bromelaids, ferns... swallowing history a year at a time. They have a mystical feel about them.

The guide points out a palm like tree that is apparently prehistoric in nature... An amazonian Ginko, so to speak. Each one`s ancestors resided with the dinosaurs apparently.

We come to an area of the trail that is, well, missing. Overnight landslide. There are two very earnest men working to restore a semblance of a footpath for us. The first bit was pretty solid, but the last 20 feet or so were still very unstable and be crossed one at a time. Carefully. One of our party of intrepid explorers chose to turn back. He was probably doing the smart thing, but I am here and on I go.

The air feels cooler, and more moist. The sound of water intensifies. I somehow expected the roar that accompanies Niagara Falls and think we must have quite a ways to go. Not so, as I round a corner and am stopped in my tracks by the beauty of the dance of the water as it falls the 550 meters from the upper platform. Starting like the flowing movements of a harem dancers` veil that twirls, floats, spins and rolls, the waters then shoot downwards like inverted rockets... the power of the water is mesmerizing, enchanting, bewitching. The rockets dissolve in the air like firecrackers on a summers evening, and the water again dances, then falls forcefully to the pool below.

This beauty is set in a landscape from dreamland. Up the banks on either side of the falls lies a mat of vegetation that is so dense it looks like a pillowy green blanket. The mist and cool air intensify the closer I come to the actual waters themselves. I pocket my camera and don my raincoat. I approach until the mist becomes a shower of sideways rain... a wet, windy, west coast, winter day. There are souls that brave a dip in the lagoon area, but I enjoy their experience vicariously. They are obviously nuts. It is COLD. A substantial portion of the volume of water entering the falls is lost to the mists created as water hits rock face, so the actual river at the base of the falls is smaller than expected.

I am also wearing a goodly portion of said water... dripping and soaked through I retreat. Time for a well earned snack.

I will regale you with the trip back up in my next post... Right now I am hungry.