I shake my hips, pull up my skivvies, and float back to my tent.
No sound emerges from our five tents, just green-black humming in all directions, 1.6 million acres of primeval rainforest teeming with the richest biodiversity in Central America. At least it runs clear I’ve been pounding water to replenish the gallon I sweat off every hour. So I watch to be sure the piss is pissing.
Because my body temperature nearly matches the outer world, it’s hard to feel the boundary line. I drop my underwear and flash a rounder moon at the donkeys. The misshapen moon shimmers like a mirage. Cicadas buzz from thick-vined shadows-the jungle’s 24-hour booty call. I slip out of our nylon cocoon to pee, swimming through the liquid night. Back in the small town of Flores, the night before we all set off, she’d said something about a kidney condition with a shrug. Army, she’s been training soldiers on how to survive in the field since before Survivor was a tiki torch in Mark Burnett’s eye. Broad shouldered and sharp jawed, she looks like she could win a car-tossing competition or spit and hit Mars. I close my eyes and wait for Tara, a.k.a. So, accompanied by a pair of guides, a half-dozen pack donkeys, and their ten toughest (or least informed) friends, the brides are determined to march us 60 miles over five days through Parque Nacional El Mirador in northern Guatemala to La Danta to say “I do.” It’s our second night on the trail.
This is where Angela and Suley want to get married. In fact, the site is still being excavated. that was abandoned nearly 2,000 years ago. It’s located in the ruins of El Mirador, a centerpiece of Maya civilization from 800 B.C.E. Our destination is La Danta, one of the largest pyramids on earth. Bugs here suck down lesser repellent like an aperitif. The mosquitoes were so vicious that by mile two even our local guides had asked to borrow our 100 percent deet. Yesterday’s hike was rough, but the 15 miles today were raw pain. Who comes to the Guatemalan jungle in July? I open the tent flap to breathe but there’s no relief, even at midnight. I lie half naked and miserable in a puddle of my own sweat.
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