We made it to the overlook while the sky was still black and the cities along the lake shore and the skirts of the mountains still glittered with streetlights. In the distance, Volcán de Fuego, the active volcano just outside of Antigua, was erupting: a plume of black smoke flowed like an oily ribbon from its crater while the red glow of lava belched into the early morning sky.
The guides, who do this trek every weekend, had never seen lava so prominent as it was right then, which was pretty cool to hear (as if this otherworldly sight hadn't already rendered us speechless).
We relaxed at the overlook and took in the vista of the lake as the sun slowly made its appearance and the glitter of streetlights and fiery glow of the volcano faded into daylight. Daylight revealed ferries and other watercraft, appearing as tiny insects skating along the surface of the lake, as well as the depth of all the hills, mountains and volcanoes surrounding us. Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore...
After fueling up with oatmeal, granola, jam and peanut butter, we descended into the lakeside city of San Juan La Laguna. Like all the descents of the trek, it was steep, steep, steep and somewhat slow-going. You had to watch every foot fall to ensure your stability on the rocky, sandy incline. The views as we wove down the mountainside were utterly spectacular, though. I will let the pictures speak for themselves...
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| Looking up and back from where we had come... This is "Indian's Nose Trail" - can you see why? (Hint: he's lying down) |
In San Juan, a camioneta (small truck whose bed is meant for transporting people) was waiting for us. We crammed in like a pack of dirty clowns and were whisked away to the neighboring lakeside town of San Pedro La Laguna where we ate one last meal together as a group at a beach-y cafe/hotel called Casa Blanca. Shedding our packs on that patio never felt so good. We had made it.