Mel and I commenced dia dos later than expected after shaking off the long hike which had swiftly settled into our joints and muscles. The once plush landing where we made our camp the previous night had hardened to frozen tundra as we tossed and turned, punctuating the importance of the missing mats. We woke, washed, and prepared a modest meal; packed our bags, and said goodbye to the puppy who was fiercely guarding our tent, before making our way through the remainder of the ravine.

Along the way we trudged past a group of geodesic domes which provided refuge for the valley’s inhabitants. (A little shout out to my boy Buckminster.) The faceted frames were of particular interest as we had recently considered the structures for a future home, but had questions about their suitability in such environments.

As we approached the end of the valley we entered a weathered storehouse seeking confirmation as to the whereabouts of a glacial lake reported to be close by. Upon asking of the potential to camp near the water, the gentle shopkeeper unconsciously rattled off, “No, No, No,” but after a long pause returned a skeptical nod and a caution complete with shivering pantomime, “Si. Pero, muy frio!” As an alternative she offered a small thatched hut for the night and a set of rickety chairs on which to rest our gear during the suggested day hike to the lake and back.

Thankful, but undeterred, we ducked out of the tattered tienda and started up a section once roughly hewn from the mountain by a mighty glacier, but that had since softened through eons of erosion. The windswept expanse now covering the smooth upward slant was stippled with boulders, grazing cattle, and battered stone ruins where we stopped to ponder a past now lost to time, and anticipated a cold night ahead alongside Lago Humantay.

After replenishing our reserves with a lunch of fruit and trail mix, we crossed a riverbed extending well beyond the width of the quiet stream running at its center, and followed some exceedingly sharp ascents which zigzagged the top of the mountain. The switchbacks soon settled and we slowed to catch our breath realizing we were close and that there was not another soul in sight. With renewed energy, we raced around the remaining ridge to the mouth of a massive crevasse, its crescent form stretching to the foot of the glacial giant before us. Freshly melting falls hanging from its icy mass disappeared into a rocky scree, and bubbled up through a spring to create the stunning reservoir of turquoise crystal now in sight.

Without hesitation I dropped everything and jumped into the frigid water which sent painful, but exhilarating pulses of electricity through my body, took away my breath, and then quickly numbed the senses. I excitedly swam to the darkened depths near the middle before the freezing temperatures seized a leg muscle and forced a cautious return to the shallows where, after some coercing, Mel reluctantly joined me.

Twenty hypothermic minutes later we robotically climbed out to bask in the intense sun and eventually explore the area. Hovering about fifty feet over the water, we paced the perimeter until its sides sharpened and turned to crumbling shale beneath our feet. Mel had no desire to traverse the sheer slopes, so I set off alone over the hills of shattered stone which rose to towering fortresses near the base of the glacier proving a difficult climb.

Beginning to question the sanity of the venture, I warily moved forward as Mel happily rewarded her day of hiking with a treasured pack of peanut M&Ms from her leisurely lookout on the hillside.

After getting close enough to touch the enigmatic falls vanishing into the ridge, I rushed back along the waters edge as the afternoon sun disappeared behind the acutely ascending walls of the canyon. With almost an hour of twilight remaining we constructed our camp on a grassy peninsula cropping out over the river which now rushed past us to the cliffs at our side and down into the valley below.