High In The Andes

 

Chapter 1: Family Reunion

(4th of July, Santa Barbara, 2010)

 

      Another Independence Day, another buzz-killing Good family reunion. Always a source of dread. Especially for the rest of the family, who’d be wondering if I’d show up. And sometimes I would, if only to bug them. No longer young, but never grown up, I’d be shunned from the adults’ table. Fine with me. I’d much rather sit with the younger generation than that stodgy group, so conservative they only sat to the right of each other. With me dressed formally—a classic aloha shirt, surf shorts, and flip-flops over my unpopular black wool—I was far too cool to fit in.
      “Hey, Uncle Mike,” yelled my nephew Matt, “sit over here by Gary and me.”
      “Don’t mind if I do.”
      “Whoa, you smell like pot.”
      “Thanks, Matt.” I turned to Matt’s nerdy guest. “Jesus, Gary, you must be really bored to come to our family’s reunion.”
      “I just came for the stock tips.”
      Matt said, “I was just telling Gary that you’ve been all over the place. You went to South America, didn’t ya?”
      “Sure did. Spent a year down there.”
      “How was it?”
      “Except for occasional disasters, I had a fantastic time. Why?”
      “We just graduated and we’re planning on exploring down there.”
      I looked at the two explorers. With their pocket protectors, short hair, and glasses, they didn't appear particularly adventurous.
      “Exploring? What are you guys? Computer geeks turned archaeologists?”
      “Well, traveling anyway.”
      “Be careful, Indiana, ‘cause I know your uptight mom is gonna want you back.”
      “What are you saying?” asked Gary. “Is it dangerous down there?””
      “Hell, yeah! You a danger lover, Gary?”
      “No.”
      “Then you probably shouldn’t go to South America.”
      “Uncle Mike is just kidding, Gary,” said Matt, giving me a look.
      “Matt’s right. It’s not dangerous. At least not all the time. Then again, when you least expect it…look out!”
      Timid Gary jumped out of his seat.
      “Come on, Uncle Mike, take it easy. Gary’s really impressionable.”
      I tried to put a positive spin on things. “To tell ya the truth, Gary, a lot depends on luck.”
      “So, is it safe or not?” asked the would-be explorer.
      “I’m going say yeah. At least sometimes. Then again, maybe not. Who really knows?”
      Matt asked, “Could you possibly be more vague?”
      “I can’t be sure. How’s that?”
      “You did it, but that’s not what I meant.”
      “For someone opposed to vagueness, you should try to be more clear.”
      “Come on, Uncle Mike, you know what I mean.”
      “Well, guys, it proved dangerous for me, but that was forty years ago, and I was kinda reckless.”
      “Mom says you still are.”
      “She’s right! But I doubt everyone had the bizarre trip I had. Otherwise, no one would still be going there.”
      “I don’t know about this South America thing, Matt,” added safety-monger Gary.
      “Don’t pay attention to my uncle, Gary, he tends to exaggerate.”
      I put a stop to those rumors. “Never in a million years.”
     Gary said, “I see what you mean.”
     “So, Uncle Mike…what’s the safest way to travel? You know, if you don’t have a great history with luck.”
       “Don’t even go.”
      “Huh?”
      “Well, that’s the best way to avoid the risks of traveling, bar none. Otherwise, the safest way is probably going with a tour group.”
      “That’s what our mom’s say,” said Gary, approving the idea.
      “So, we should go in a tour group, huh?”
      “What? Hell, no. Whatever you do, Matt, don’t go anywhere in a tour group. Ever.” I shook my head in dismay at the very idea. “Jesus….”
      Matt’s timid buddy wasn’t satisfied with my explicit warning. “Can you explain what’s wrong with tour groups?”
      “Yes, I can.”
      Gary sighed. “I meant specifically.”
      “Specifically speaking? Everything.”
      Gary gave me a blank look, suggesting my cogent point hadn’t sunk in. Rational minds weren’t open enough to understand the beauty of my worldview.
      “Look guys, I’ll make this as clear as I can…considering how high I am. Going to foreign countries isn’t about staying safe, it’s about having a terrific adventure, doing crazy stuff you’ll remember the rest of your life while you’re somewhere else being safe and wishing you were having more fun.”
      “You mean, like college?”
      “There you go. Of course that’s only if you live to have those crazy memories.”
      “I think you’re right, Uncle Mike, but our moms keep telling us not to go unless it’s with a tour group. Say it’s way too dangerous.”
      “Well, that’s what moms get paid for, Matt. And even if they’re right, what do they know?”
      “Did grandma say the same thing?”
      “Heh heh…no…actually your grandparents suggested I travel as soon as I graduated. To Vietnam.”
      “Really?”
      “Yeah, they were pissed when I didn’t wanna go to law school.” I waved at Dad at the grownup’s table. Dressed up in his patriotic Uncle Sam costume (as always), he glared back. At least Uncle Dick (AKA: disgraced President Nixon) wasn't around anymore. Talk about your bad vibes. He never could forgive me for costing him the election to Kennedy.
      Matt said, “Guess they still are.”
      “No kidding. Anyway, I don’t think they were all that worried about the traveling thing. More that I’d return home after college.”
      “You might be surprised, Uncle Mike, but my mom recommended I talk to you about going to South America.”
      My younger sister Bonnie, my parents, my brother Major Johnny, my cousins, and, well, the entire Good family, did not agree with me on much, so this kinda surprised me. In a good way. Consulting the world-wise older brother instead of insulting? What a nice change.
      “How about that? I never thought she’d tell anyone to follow my advice. Certainly not anyone she loved. Wait a minute, Matt; your mom still loves you, doesn’t she?”
      “Yeah, she does. I think. And no, she didn’t tell me to follow your advice.”
      “Huh?”
      “She said listen to whatever you had to say…and then do the opposite.”
      “Ah, that sounds more like her.”
      “Naturally, in the spirit of rebellion, I’ll ignore her advice.”
     “That’s what I always did, and look what it got me.”
      “Uh oh,” groaned Matt, reconsidering his plan.
      After listening to me speak for just a few minutes, nervous Gary said, “I think our mom’s are right, Matt. We should stick to the tour groups.”
      “Whoa there, Gary. Even if you don’t follow my advice, don’t stick to the tour groups.”
      “But if we don’t stick to tour groups… then we’re following your advice,” pointed out the clever Gary, way too hung up with logic.
      “Don’t worry so much about being smart. That kinda bullshit didn’t help me one bit when it came to the real world.”
      “Mom says that’s because you were born with no common sense.”
      “What’s her point? Besides, guys, what’s a dangerous adventure if you can be sure of the outcome?”
      “A safer trip?” suggested Gary.
      “Who said it has to be dangerous?” wondered Matt.
      “You’re going to South America, aren’t ya?”
      “Hmm…maybe not anymore,” mumbled Gary.
      “You guys want safety and predictability? Try to ignore California is about to fall in the ocean, and don’t ever leave your house. Unless it’s in the path of a forest fire or mudslide. Safe inside your house, try not to worry about home invaders, invisible mold hiding behind the walls, radon seeping out of the ground, meteors falling from the sky…”
      Gary cut me off before I got warmed up. “Now I don’t even feel safe anywhere.”
      “That’s the spirit, Gary! After all, you guys don’t wanna be trapped in your treacherous homes when the Big One hits, do you?”
      “Well, no…”
      “Exactly. You wanna have some fun before your horrible deaths, doncha?”
      “Right…wait, do the deaths have to be horrible?”
      “Not necessarily, Gary. The secret is to remain a moving target so Mother Nature can’t get ya. That’s why constantly traveling is the smart move.”
     “Uncle Mike is right.”
      “I am? I mean, see? You guys take my advice and you’ll never know what’s gonna happen.”
     The guys looked at me kinda funny, not sure if that was such a great thing.
     “So, how ‘bout some other tips?”
     “Of course, Matt. Whaddaya wanna know?”
     “Well, good places to go, where to stay, the best ways to get around...whatever.”
      “Okay, first travel tip: Fly everywhere. No matter what, do not travel by bus on the Pan American Highway. Or anywhere else.”
      “What? We’re on a budget, Uncle Mike. We’re gonna go everywhere by bus; start in Colombia, then work our way south to Peru. That way we get to make a million stops along the way, see all the local culture.”
      “Aw man…that’s exactly what Buddy and I did. Wished we hadn’t. But I understand, without lots of bread, you won’t be able to afford the pricey plane tickets they have down there. Just remember: The bus rides are dirt cheap, but as a bonus, they will try to kill you. So, is it really worth dying to save a few bucks?”
      “The Pan American Highway is that bad?”
      “Worse! Plus you gotta worry about other passengers, some of them berserk, and all of them armed.”
      “Armed? With guns?” squeamed Gary.
      I shrugged. “Guns, knives, machetes, sharpened screwdrivers, whatever. And let’s not forget the noisy children, deep-fried pig skins, hygiene issues, angry chickens…”
      “Seriously?” interrupted Matt, as if I was making it up. If only.
      “Then there are the earthquakes, landslides, and berserk drivers on constant hairpin turns with thousand mile drop offs. Plus you got bandits, police, soldiers, and guerrilla fighters hijacking the bus and holding you for ransom.”
      “Bandits?” said Matt.
      “Murderous ones.”
      “Ransom?” quivered Gary.
      “Only if they don’t kill you.”
      “We could get killed by our vacation?”
      I snapped my fingers. “At any moment. Sounds exciting, doesn’t it, Gary?”
      “Huh?”
      “No one lives forever. Just think of the killer stories you’ll have.”
      “If we live to tell them,” shuddered Gary.
      “Jesus, Gary, what does it take to get you excited?”
      “Huh?” asked Gary again.
      “Don’t worry, Gary, he’s just kidding. Right, Uncle Mike?”
      “You’ll see. If you do use the bus, here’s another great travel tip: Stay away from fleabag hotels near the bus stations.”
     “But that’s where the Crowded Planet guidebook says the cheapest rooms are. We’ve gotta watch our money.”
     “And they’re right. At those places you really do gotta watch your money. Closely. In fact, guard it with your life. Also, every bit of your other stuff. Look guys, you want the truth? Buddy and I did it the cheap Crowded Planet way, and it sucked. Those buses and funky hotels are murder.”
      “You mean that figuratively.”
      “Nooo...”
      “You make traveling by bus sound like a horror flick,” said Gary.
      “That’s what makes it exhilarating! You like excitement, doncha?”
      “Uh…”
      “Thattaboy, Gary.”
      “So flying is the way to go, Uncle Mike? Nice and safe...”
      “Don’t get carried away, Matt. Once I made some money in Peru, I traveled by air all the time. It scared the crap out of me.”
      “Really?”
      “Oh yeah, those planes can be murder.”
      “You keep saying murder.”
      “It just seems appropriate.”
      “Is there no safe way to travel?” asked the timid Gary.
      “Let’s face it, getting around down there is sketchy.”
      “But you were there forty years ago, Uncle Mike.”
      “Well, sure, it’s gotta be somewhat better by now. Or does it?”
      “The travel blogs we’ve read show mixed results.”
      “If you want you can read my travel blog.”
      “Come on, Uncle Mike, they didn’t even have blogs back then.”
      “No, but they had paper and pens.”
      “Cool,” said Matt. “So it’ll tell us everything we need to know for traveling down there, right?”
      “Not even close. That’s what regular guidebooks try to do. Not that any book can tell you all that. To really learn about a place you gotta go there, absorb the culture, see the sights, shed some blood…”
      “Is it necessary to shed some blood?” asked Gary.
      “Necessary, no. Likely, yes. But don’t worry about it. Let surprise attacks and injuries be a spontaneous part of your adventure.”
      “See, Gary, already Uncle Mike is giving us good advice.”
      “Thanks, Matt. The stories in my book will tell you guys some cool things to do, but maybe more importantly, lots of things not to do.”
     “Stuff you did?”
      “That’s right. You can learn from my mistakes.”
      Gary still seemed doubtful of my travel wisdom. “Maybe you can give us an example?”
      “Stay away from tour groups.”
      “You already said not to join them.”
      “Not joining them isn’t good enough. You literally need to stay away from them.”
      “How can tour groups ruin your trip?”
      “You’d be surprised. I know I was.”
      Gary sighed. “Do you have any other examples that don’t include tour groups?”
      “Sure do. How about where to score the best drugs?”
      Gary suddenly brightened up. “That’s important!”
      “I told you Uncle Mike could help.”
      My pointy head swelled nicely with the compliment. “Plus, I’ll teach you how to pay bribes.”
      “Is that important, too?”
      “Of course it is. You are gonna be using drugs, aren’t you.”
      “We sure hope so.”
      “That’s why the bribing thing is so important. You’ll need to know these things if you wanna have a great time, and unless the Crowded Planet staff has changed its policies, they’re not gonna help you with that kind of stuff.”
      “He’s right, Gary,” agreed Matt, “my Crowded Planet research hasn’t been helpful regarding recreationals. In fact, they recommend staying away from drugs.”
      Gary finally came around. “I guess it can’t hurt to read your book, Mike.”
      “No guarantees, Gary, but use me as role model, and you’ll know what not to do and where not to go.”
      “Maybe I’ll read your book and the Crowded Planet’s. And then buy something better.”
      “Good idea. By the way, Buddy and I were the same age as you, right after college, so you’ll be able to relate to how we felt.”
      “I will?” Gary still seemed skeptical.
      “Long as you like smoking weed and eating magic mushrooms.”
      “Come on, Uncle Mike, who doesn’t like that?”
      I nodded at his mom and the other party-goers at the grown-ups’ table. Whose family wears three-piece business suits and wingtips to a beach party? And that’s just the women.
      “Good point,” said Matt.