We Used Lots of Tricks to Create All Our Pics

No longer chilled from July of 2012

Few adventures were anticipated as much as our tour through the salt flats in Bolivia outside of the town of Uyuni.  With a tip at our previous stop in Sucre, we had already determined our next guesthouse.  In a town frequented by travelers looking to explore, it didn’t take much to find tour operators willing to accommodate our expedition.  Within hours we had made our decision, hoping we had chosen wisely for our early morning departure.  One thing was for sure, this would be our coldest of adventures.

We bundled up every article of warm clothing in our backpacks, attempting to avoid the frigid chill of the crisp winter air.  The seven of us piled into our well-worn Land Cruiser charged with providing transport throughout the tour.  Not far from town, we stopped at what was called a “train cemetery,” taking the time to climb rusted train cars and engines as if we were once again children at the newest playground.  The afternoon, however, held the highlight of our journey and what each of us had imagined for months prior to our arrival.

Rarely had I seen a brighter white than that of the salt flats glistening under the sun, even more blinding than the sight of my ghostly ass never before seen in the same natural light.  Our driver slowly rolled to a stop, allowing us the opportunity to play with multiple perspective shots toying with the perceptions of our minds.  We amused ourselves for hours with creative pictures of Jessie sitting in my palm, pretending to drink from overly enlarged beer cans and attempting to escape from a colorful toy dinosaur.  Although I must admit, I entertained the idea of a private photo pretending to make my penis nearly the size of Jessie’s body.  Unfortunately, even with the illusion of our surroundings assisting my idea, the relentless cold wouldn’t allow such adult entertainment.

With sufficient memories documented through a multiple of captured pictures, we were once again rolling through the crusted salt flats until finding our first night’s accommodation.  We entered the gray building seemingly composed on concrete only to realize the structure was completely made of salt.  Our bed frame, the walls, tables, and even the small columns creating extra seating for dinner were comprised of the same mineral we had driven over for the afternoon.  Yet as incredibly unique as our new quarters would be that evening, nothing could compare to the sights just outside the main entrance.

We stepped out into the increasingly strong wind under a sky fully illuminated, not from the power of the moon, but the magnificence of the Milky Way.  The sub-zero temperatures compelled us to seek shelter, but not before fully soaking in the rarity of such an impressive sight.  Truly, we had been spoiled throughout our day.  Though we had seen stars in their purest form while spending an evening in primitive towns hours from the intensity of city lights, the elevation, cold air and absence of population created an environment unlike any other.

Away from the salt flats we navigated through our arid surroundings, lost in thought as we gawked at the colorful hues of the mountains in the distance.  The rocky slopes reflected shades of purple and pink to all close enough to see, the peaked capped with snow.  We neared a small lake where I leaned forward with my eyes squinted in disbelief, attempting to confirm the objects of my attention.  My mouth dropped with justification, realizing a flock of flamingos inhabited the rare body of water in such high elevation.  The thought of surviving the brutally cold temperatures without the relief of shelter proved more than sufficient to keep my member turtled in absolute discomfort.

Our last night, however, served nearly unbearable temperatures.  It was only then we realized we had NOT chosen wisely as all other tours operating on the same schedule as ours set up camp in a small cluster of buildings complete with far superior heating capabilities.  The miniscule iron stove offered little relief short of placing our hands directly into the flames.  Our dinner was nearly neglected as each of us shivered at the wooden table in the kitchen, opting to retreat to the large dorm style room well before our usual bed time to hide under our covers.

As the temperature plummeted to -13 degrees Fahrenheit, we piled every blanket and comforter possible on top of us.  The weight of our covers suppressed our breathing after utilizing every article of clothing we brought with us.  Teeth chattered in the silence of night as I wondered if we would wake frozen like cavemen in the last ice age.  The only true relief we would receive would be from bottling our hot water meant for coffee the following morning and tucking them under our jackets while riding in our SUV also lacking heat.  Needless to say…we could hardly wait for a hot shower upon our return to town.  Even while enduring the brutality of traveling the salt flats during winter, we couldn’t have been more grateful for the memories we created…