INSTITUTO TECNOLÓGICO Y ESTUDIOS SUPERIORES DE MONTERREY

Campus Estado de México

Mariana Gutiérrez Mejorado 465843

Literature and Narrative in New Media
Prof. Jochen Siess
Thursday, August 13, 2009

My story

Just a few days before Christmas of 2005, I started one of many journeys throughout the
beautiful regions of this country. The particularity of this trip I am about to illustrate relies in its
life-changing meaning. Few episodes in my life might be considered as worthy stories to tell, but
this one is especially an experience I do not mind sharing.

For those that do not know me yet, I am the kind of person that loves backpacking and being
outdoors. For this reason, I try to take any given opportunity to run far away from this crowded
city.

The adventure, as I like to call any unusual or exciting moment of my life, started when my family
holidays for the winter of 2005 took place in Durango, just like every other year since I can
remember. Before taking the twelve-hours bus from Mexico City to Durango, I heard about a an
eco-tourism challenge with a route through the woods of Durango’s Northwest region. One of my
friends back then was interested in going, so she easily convinced me to join her. The only thing
we had for sure was a roof at my Grandma’s house for a couple days, then we figured out how to
sign in to the competition.

Irma, my friend, and I were all packed up thinking we were ready to go. Soon we realized that the
competition required teams made up from four to six participants. We rushed to find a team to
join, but sadly we realize that no one was willing to have girls for team mates. They said we were
not skilled enough to hike, climb and carry the gear needed; besides the fact that we were not
used to the freezing temperatures of the mountains.

Just 10 hours before facing the start line, Irma finally met two guys in the same situation, and
therefore willing to have us as part of their team. One of them was from San Luis, a tall funny guy
with a lollypop and a teddy bear attached to its shirt. The other one, Pancho, even though was
older and not in such a good shape as the first guy, seemed quite charismatic and claimed to be an
expert in reading maps. By the next morning, all the glaring expectations I had about my
teammates, quickly vanished when I found out they spent all night drinking and obviously forgot
to pack the food we bought the previous night.

Even today I wonder how could I be so naive to trust my life to a pair of strangers for at least three
days. Both girls hardly knew how to read a map and this was our first, if not only, hiking
competition. Anyway, with no food, their hangover, my lack of experience and Irma’s anxiety, the
team hit the road totally conscious there was no chance we could win. A team of 6 slim guys from
Guanajuato wearing small shorts and carrying nothing but an 8x10 inches backpack came running
by our sides, almost leaving a cloud of dust behind them. I went in shock, but my three team
mates did not even changed their pace. Those guys had been training or months, meanwhile we
were a group of amateurs dragging ten-kilograms rucksacks. We never rushed to run, we walked.

The main goal of the competition was to cross 100 km of a mountain chain during three days, with
the danger of getting injured or lost, and therefore get the whole team disqualified. The traced
route included several checkpoints to get water, along with the tasks or challenges given by the
staff. Some of the challenges were: a canopy tour over a waterfall, rappelling down a cliff and
climbing a radio tower at the top of a hill. By the end of each day, there was a final checkpoint at
which all the teams had to arrive for resting and getting instructions.

Pancho, was our leader. Kiko was the tough guy that helped us with our bags and made us laugh
every now and then. Irma became the team’s cheerleader, mostly because of her obsession to
always keep going. Luckily, I brought with me apples and energetic bars, so I happened to be the
provider by smartly distributing our only supplies. Our journey took us across a road framed by
small towns and cattle, that later turned into barely seen paths and cliffs. The wind seemed to
blow harder and the temperature went lower as we proceeded into thick bushy landscapes. Our
steps felt lighter and almost acquired a sense of automatic motion. Most of us had lost the track of
time and distance, only Pancho was conscious of how far we were from each checkpoint.

Thirsty, hungry and longing for a bed to sleep, I tried to recall why I was there. There was no
reason why I had to feel so uncomfortable and tired. But then I smelled the fresh scent of forest,
the genuine glow of stars in a clean sky and stared at the human beings that had just revealed
their souls to me during the course of the journey, so I praised God or the destiny that led me to
that time and place.

The first night’s checkpoint was inside an abandoned train-tunnel. We were part of the last teams
to arrive, but certainly not the last one. Some teams got lost during the evening, and finally
reached the camp till early morning. I spend the night freezing, wearing everything I owned and
getting as close as possible to Irma, trying not to panic when the guys did the same thing to keep
us all warm.

By the next day, some members of the staff encouraged us to surrender the race, due to our
evident inexperience. They claimed that the upcoming roads were very difficult, thus impossible to
access quickly in case we suffered any emergency.

Both guys were conscious that they could easily go on, but said there was no need to risk any of
the girls. Deep inside I knew that the main reason why they were about to give up was because
they did not want to have us as burden. But Irma would not give up so easy. Being as stubborn as
she has always been, she cried, yelled and claimed that the whole team was strong enough to
keep going, till the whole staff finally allowed us to continue. So, we did.

The landscapes of that day were even more astonishing than the first day. Highways, crop lands
and houses were left far behind. The road flooded with tall pines and hills. Climbing was so
exhausting that I almost left all my belongings hanging on a branch. The good part of going-up,
was eventually sliding down, bumping with trees and getting all dirty. At night we were one of the
last teams to arrive at the camp checkpoint. Instead of feeling discouraged, at least I felt relieved
of not getting lost and finally having the chance to borrow some food from the other teams. That
night, instead of having a good sleep, we all preferred to spend some time with our competitors.

There were young people from all over the country, singing and keeping a big bonfire for
everyone’s wellness. We breathe truthful brotherhood all around. For instance, when a guy saw
me trembling trying to sleep by the fire, he insisted to lend me his sleeping bag and that I should
go my tent, alleging he could not sleep and had no problem to spend the whole night by the
flames.

The last sunrise awoke us all camping at the middle of the rocky zone Mexiquillo, with a bushes
covered by a thin layer of mist turned into ice. A cold waterfall could be heard at a distance. My
heart jumped with excitement of finally hiking the last 24 km ahead. For my surprise, the youngest
boy from the competition, along with a loud guy from the North region that liked to be called as
Chuck, asked Pancho if they could join us for the last lap. Both of their teams had been
disqualified, but they still wanted to finish the route. We were already on the last places, so there
was nothing to lose. From that moment and then, the hike turned more pleasant, not only due to
Chuck’s jokes but also because of the joy of getting closer to the end.

The last part of the route included walking through several dark and old train tunnels, so long that
I could barely see their exits. Small clear creeks emerged and disappeared at the middle of the
road. We bordered remote mountains in circles in order to cross the most inaccessible area of the
challenge. I had never felt lost till that moment. At the top of the mountains, no civilization could
be seen, only trees and some marijuana fields. Probably that is why a man suddenly appeared
pointing his long rifle towards Pancho and me, curious about what we doing there. I was so scared
I could not articulate a single word, but fortunately Pancho gave him such a convincing answer
that the man even wished us luck. The weirdest thing about the situation is that no one else saw
him; taking into consideration that someone should have also met him since only one path to go
or return, and the rest was a deep cliff. We could not tell if he was related or no to the marijuana
fields we had seen.

I tried to think about losing weight or any other silly thought to keep me walking. Kiko’s feet were
about to bleed and Irma spent the whole day complaining. Chuck made his best effort to motivate
us. With feet aching, drinking water from creeks and dragging the 17-years old boy whose leg got
injured in the way, we finally arrived to the end line. Tears came down our cheeks when we
approached the last hundred meters. Obviously we came last, but we felt completely satisfied with
our journey. From eleven teams that started the challenge, only five continued till the end. Also,
Irma and I were part of the only three girls that completed the expedition.

Since then and for the last four years, the guys of the team have been my invaluable friends. Even
though they live hours away from me, we all tried to get together at least twice a year, with the
excuse of a camp or any other trip.