The gods smiled upon me and I made it through my short little trip to Puerto Vallarta with all my body parts in tact and no bout of food or water poisoning to speak of. In fact, besides the fact that my legs, feet, and ankles are more than twice their original size because of  a random horrible sunburn, I'm fine! The funny part about the sunburn is that I got it during the 40 minutes I sat on the beach almost fully clothed (but in shorts), writing in my journal, and waiting for my friends to show up so we could find a good part of the beach to actually sunbathe and play in the ocean. As it was early morning and wasn't actually hot out, I hadn't bothered to put sunscreen on and was just passing the time... until I realized my legs seemed to be a little red. As I spent the rest of the day covered by the ocean or towels or pants, I know my sunburn came from that little bit of time.. Weird! I hobbled slowly through the airports Monday, thankful I had my more comfortable Croc sandals to wear, since normal shoes and pants don't fit my larger than life shins and feet. Gross.

But anyway, between the nightlife, the great breakfasts with chilequillas, uber-fresh seafood, beautiful scenery and artwork, and wonderful people, I was never disappointed in the trip. Vallarta is a newer tourist town that is slowly getting the hang of their thriving tourist industry. Tourists who've been visiting for the past 20+ years mention the changes with sadness, although noting the convenience of various specific changes- like the fact that almost everyone takes dollars, not just pesos. The fact that there was a Starbucks every five blocks, a Hooters right next to the ever-popular Los Arcos (the center of the downtown nightlife), Office Depot, Home Depot, Carl's Jr, Pizza Hut, KFC, Dominoes Pizza, Chili's, and at least two Blockbusters in the small area I traversed during my time there, was a little surprising, but only slightly comical. The down side was that the natives now understood that they could increase their prices with little shock from us, and most of the food, beer, and taxi rides cost what I would have been charged here. It's all good, though, I was just happy to be away from the restaurant.

Besides hanging out with my dear friend that I haven't seen in several months, my moment of personal achievement came my first of the two full days I was there. We went on an Adventure Tour. There are a ton of canopy tours available in Vallarta and the surrounding towns, but this is the one I'll go on again if I ever get to go back. The adventures started right away, with us stepping into raft-like speedboats that were driven so wildly across the ever-so deep Banderas Bay, that I didn't even question the fact that I would soon be tossed backwards off of the bucking boat, but planned a way to throw myself so I wouldn't hit the propeller. Miraculously we all made it through just fine. Our boat drove into a mountainous cove and "docked" on the tiny beach at the head of it, which had a couple of cantina shacks straigh out of Gilligan's Island. The families who lived there played in a river they'd created by digging a snake-like valley out of the sand, creating a sort of harbor for their personal fishing boats at the end of it.

We were loaded into the backs of open-air, caravan-like trucks, complete with two benches on either side, a jumpseat attached to the back fold-up gate, and rubber straps hanging from the ceiling. Self-assured, we laughed and pushed our seatbelts aside, only to regret the move later as our driver forgot that we were in a massive vehicle making our way up winding mountain roads, rather than speeding crazily through downtown Mexico City in an armor-covered taxi. Holding on to the straps for dear life, and struggling to stay upright on our seats, we winced as we saw the sudden valley drop-offs only inches from us as we bounced around the road, weaving around approaching cars.

Although the truck stalled out a couple of times on various hills, we made it to our destination just fine- all of us just a little closer from forced intimacy as we'd continuously invaded each others' personal zones and laughing from the thrill of our second "adventure". The best was yet to come.

We were suited up in our harnesses and helmets and given bandannas to wear for the dust. Lorena was the tour guide who helped me the most out of the entire trip, but every single one of the tour guides were hilarious, trustworthy, and very knowledgable. There was no way I could have gotten through the next several hours without each one of them, especially Lorena, as she seemed to always be the guide with us when I needed the most assurance or help.

We were given a five minute tutorial on how to ride a donkey, were paired up with a certain donkey, climbed on, and started up one of the mountains of the Sierra Madres. My donkey was particularly stubborn, often pausing in the middle of ledge-less, steep, tiny, mountain trails that dropped straight off to nibble on plants or just stand there until Lorena, who happened to be riding in line behind me, would sing, whip, or yell at her to move. And she would snort from annoyance and move on. My time with Liluana (my donkey) ultimately stopped fifteen feet below the top of the mountain, when she refused to budge. Lorena again to the rescue! (her words, not mine), and Liluana was tugged up the mountain and I was helped off.

We were then given a 7 minute tutorial on how to do the zip lines, headed a little farther up the mountain and began zipping immediately. Thankfully Lorena was our first zip-line guide, although I think I would have been just as comfortable with any of the others. Our role in zipping here at the Adventures Vallarta tour was a little easier and a little harder than my role in zip-lining at the camp I once worked at, as (1) the camp zip-line may have only been 30 feet high, while this one was an average of 150 feet high, (2) the camp zip-line required me to drop straight off of the 30 feet ledge while this one only required me to lift up feet while in standing position (much easier, let me tell you), and (3) the Adventures Vallarta zip-line required me to have my incredibly gloved hand brushing the line above me so I would brake farther down the line, while we just rocked back and forth until naturally stopping at the camp zip-line. As terrified as I am of heights, I braked pre-maturely on almost every zip-line and even came to a stop too early and had to pull myself in twice. But I still enjoyed it.

About the time I got the hang of zipping and was no longer scared of it, they changed up our routine. We suddenly zipped into a little crowded ledge against a cliff side with no sides to hang on to, and were then clipped onto a zip line going almost straight down, with a waterfall in the background. There was no way I could just lift my feet up and let myself fall straight down. Then the guide told me we were being balleyed (sp?) and I relaxed some. Thankfully my time at the camp ropes course allowed me to trust in our equipment and have a basic understanding of some of the terms, as balleying (once again, I'm not certain if this is the correct way to spell it) is a very controlled way of falling. Although I was braking like there was no tomorrow, I really wouldn't have had to do a thing, as the guide had me.

I arrived on another crowded ledge perched on top of a rock overlooking a high waterfall. From here we shuffled our way along, without anything to hold on to, and watched as they gave us a three minute tutorial on how to rappel (sp?). We were going to rappel down the waterfall into the water below. While I've balleyed other people, I don't think I've ever really rappeled before, and while the hand motions are virtually the same, I was having to concentrate on maintaining a perfect body position, figure out a safe place to step, and keep my safety had in position. I had a hard time keeping my safety hand underneath me while doing everything else. Meanwhile, the professional photographer whose been taking alternate paths and lines to be able to photograph us shows up on the side of the waterfall, telling us to pose for him and his camera. I think I managed a non-stressed smile in the middle of figuring out how to get my brake hand underneath me without letting go (as it was holding 20% of my weight). As hard as I was concentrating, I didn't realze I was at the bottom until I was told to jump off and landed in the brisk water, shaking from the muscle stress, and grinning from ear to ear. We then zipped down a short line that went along the rapids and landed in a natural pool, only to be hooked up to a line and start "drying off" by zipping some more.

The most challenging of all the activities that day was when we found ourselves standing on a plastic grate ledge that jutted out into the middle of the forest about five stories high without anything but black string to hold on to on either side. We were always attached, but as terrified as I am of heights, I always need something solid on either side of me or I freeze. Imagine a thin plastic grated diving board five stories high that ends in a small "T" and only string to hold on to. This was the only time I thought I wasn't going to make it as the holes in the grating were huge and it shook with every step someone took. But I concentrated on my friend in front of me, made to the end of the "T", was hooked up to another line, and told to free rappel down- which means to sit in your harness and let the safety rope slide slowly through your safety hand so you lower yourself. We did this along another waterfall, and I had so much fun. I hit the water with an even bigger grin than before, ready to take on any other challege they thought to throw our way. Of course, it was simple rope bridges and zip lines from there on out.. how do you top free rappelling off of a grate ledge in the middle of the tropical forest?

The end of the adventure came soon after that and we hiked down a quick trail to the adventure site. We were given fruit, water, and Mexican beer, and climbed back into the trucks of death to go back down to the cove. Once in the cove, we surrendered our shoes yet again, waded into the water and jumped into the raft boat to go home. Only, we noticed there was a problem with our boat as our driver wasn't taking us back to the Vallarta Marina at top speed anymore. We were puttering along in the ever-so deep Banderas Bay, where whales come to have their babies, dolphins swim, and mantra rays reside on a little raft boat with no sides, cover, or lights, and the sun was setting quickly and we had miles to go. Fun. After over half an hour of a usually ten to fifteen minute trip, we noticed another boat skipping across the water in our direction. Our savior! The other raftboat driver pulled up alongside us and held the two boats together as best as possible with a rope... which only meant that we each had random windows of time when the sides were close together, not that the sides were actually touching. We tumbled into the other boat, smashing knees and shins along the way and made our way back into the harbor, where our co-adventurers pointed out Bill Gate's yacht, complete with a helicopter and GPS navigation bubble on top.

We had many other "adventures" while we were there- nightlife on the Malecon, a creepy creepy gay bar in the Romantic Zone, night swimming, and just trying to get a bottle of water in a city surrounded by the ocean, tequila, and beer.

My flights were great, and I'm almost able to declare myself a confident flier. I'll need a little more practice, though, before I quell  the desire to get drunk before the first flight of the day (which, for the record, I never succumbed to).

Although it was an extremely short trip and my friends are still in Mexico, I got to do everything I wanted and more. It was refreshing and I'm glad to be back... if even to just get a regular glass of water out of the sink.