My Poor Mom

I think I make my mom nervous. I remind her of this fact every Mother's Day. I think I was climbing Mt. Shasta the last four years on Mother's Day. I once called her from above the chutes at the Red Banks at about 12,000 feet. Luckily she couldn't see where I was.

This year Kristin and I are in a decidedly different locale, but still find ourselves lost in the wilderness on Dia de Madres. We are heading 120 kilometers south of Huaraz to the Cordillera Huaywash (pronounced: why wash). This range is only 30 kilometers long but is supposed to be one of the best treks in the world. Very rugged, remote and with many mountain passes over 15,000 feet. The entire loop is supposed to take 10-12 days to hike, even with mules carrying  your food and gear. We are bringing 8 days worth of food but hope to complete the loop in 7 days.

So, mom, I am sorry I won't be able to call you on yet another Mother's Day. I hope you understand. If it makes you feel any better, Kristin can't call her mom either. And maybe, in the bigger picture, I'm doing you right by living my dreams, just as you taught me. Happy Mother's Day. Love, Danny.

Mom: Can't wait to see you in Cuzco in two weeks!