01-20-2019, 09:17 AM
12/31/2018: Part 3
Then we start readying the rafts, and I have no idea what we're about. To fill them, Mohsin uses this bellows fabric that you swoop upward to trap air, then squeeze it with the arms (in a bear hug) to force the air into the raft. Only about half of us opt to go rafting. LC declines, but tells me to go ahead. In all, four of us take to the single-person rafts: Ian, Mina, Sarad, and me. They are horrid little craft that mostly spin when you try to paddle, so you advance by alternate spins. At first I think we're intending to paddle up this narrow tributary in exploration, but it turns out we're supposed to return to the river and paddle downstream towards the ecolodge.
Mohsin tells us not to just drift, as that would take way too long, so paddle, and the boat will follow us under low power.
It's a bit touristy and silly, I suppose. The rafts leak, by the way; from time to time each of us has to pause to blow into an inflation tube to bring our raft back to snuff. Still, it's a way of advancing down the river without as much motor noise, and I go out well ahead of the others, hoping to see something on the shore.
Mohsin is shouting something to me, but even with my hearing aids in I can't make it out. Does he want me to come back? And what the hell am I doing wearing my hearing aids? They mustn't get wet. I begin to edge around a bend where, a couple days ago, there'd been fresh capybara tracks on a clay bar, so I'm hoping to glimpse capybara. But there's the sound of a motor and a boat appears, headed upriver -- a rare occurrence -- spooking anything I might have seen.
After that I paddle back towards our boat, and I take out my hearing aids and pass them off to LC. Others are in the river by now, swimming about or wading. LC even gets in for a while. In spots it's only waist deep, even at mid-river. Navigating the river requires considerable skill, and I've noticed in the past how JJ gives subtle hand signals to the boatman to guide him past hazards. Mohsin then calls us all in, and one by one we dock our rafts and climb aboard. I do so in my own awkward way. We pull the rafts aboard and uninflate them, then head back to the ecolodge.
Back at the ecolodge, after the others take off shoes and socks and head off to get cleaned up, Mohsin, LC and I linger in the staging area. Mohsin looks at me and asks if I am just genetically blessed. I guess a lot of people were expecting me to be problematic on all these outings. I am 68, after all. But I'm hanging in there. After the trek where I slipped off the plank bridge, one of the staff even greeted me back at the ecolodge by shaking my hand. When I mimed my fall and gave myself two thumbs down, he vigorously shook his head and gave two thumbs up. Anyway, my vine-climbing was an even bigger surprise for a lot of people, including Mohsin.
I deny it's genetics. My family history is a disaster zone in terms of health and longevity. I attribute my relative fitness to martial arts training under Sifu Wing Lam, who died in the spring. I try to explain this to Mohsin, but not very well. Anyway, one of the last things Sifu told me, emphatically, was to never stop exercising. And while I've had lapses over the 36 years training under him, in the past few years I've been very diligent.
Still, whether this translates into health and longevity is another matter. There's really no stopping the aging process, and these treks are taking a toll on me. I was dizzy after that vine-climb, and I've been having other problems that I don't want to tell anyone.
Then we start readying the rafts, and I have no idea what we're about. To fill them, Mohsin uses this bellows fabric that you swoop upward to trap air, then squeeze it with the arms (in a bear hug) to force the air into the raft. Only about half of us opt to go rafting. LC declines, but tells me to go ahead. In all, four of us take to the single-person rafts: Ian, Mina, Sarad, and me. They are horrid little craft that mostly spin when you try to paddle, so you advance by alternate spins. At first I think we're intending to paddle up this narrow tributary in exploration, but it turns out we're supposed to return to the river and paddle downstream towards the ecolodge.
Mohsin tells us not to just drift, as that would take way too long, so paddle, and the boat will follow us under low power.
It's a bit touristy and silly, I suppose. The rafts leak, by the way; from time to time each of us has to pause to blow into an inflation tube to bring our raft back to snuff. Still, it's a way of advancing down the river without as much motor noise, and I go out well ahead of the others, hoping to see something on the shore.
Mohsin is shouting something to me, but even with my hearing aids in I can't make it out. Does he want me to come back? And what the hell am I doing wearing my hearing aids? They mustn't get wet. I begin to edge around a bend where, a couple days ago, there'd been fresh capybara tracks on a clay bar, so I'm hoping to glimpse capybara. But there's the sound of a motor and a boat appears, headed upriver -- a rare occurrence -- spooking anything I might have seen.
After that I paddle back towards our boat, and I take out my hearing aids and pass them off to LC. Others are in the river by now, swimming about or wading. LC even gets in for a while. In spots it's only waist deep, even at mid-river. Navigating the river requires considerable skill, and I've noticed in the past how JJ gives subtle hand signals to the boatman to guide him past hazards. Mohsin then calls us all in, and one by one we dock our rafts and climb aboard. I do so in my own awkward way. We pull the rafts aboard and uninflate them, then head back to the ecolodge.
Back at the ecolodge, after the others take off shoes and socks and head off to get cleaned up, Mohsin, LC and I linger in the staging area. Mohsin looks at me and asks if I am just genetically blessed. I guess a lot of people were expecting me to be problematic on all these outings. I am 68, after all. But I'm hanging in there. After the trek where I slipped off the plank bridge, one of the staff even greeted me back at the ecolodge by shaking my hand. When I mimed my fall and gave myself two thumbs down, he vigorously shook his head and gave two thumbs up. Anyway, my vine-climbing was an even bigger surprise for a lot of people, including Mohsin.
I deny it's genetics. My family history is a disaster zone in terms of health and longevity. I attribute my relative fitness to martial arts training under Sifu Wing Lam, who died in the spring. I try to explain this to Mohsin, but not very well. Anyway, one of the last things Sifu told me, emphatically, was to never stop exercising. And while I've had lapses over the 36 years training under him, in the past few years I've been very diligent.
Still, whether this translates into health and longevity is another matter. There's really no stopping the aging process, and these treks are taking a toll on me. I was dizzy after that vine-climb, and I've been having other problems that I don't want to tell anyone.
I'm nobody's pony.