I dismounted my dilapidated bicycle and stashed it in the underbrush. Just beyond, an ancient Mayan pyramid rose from the forest floor. I could see its rough hewn stone steps through the trees, its templed top stretching into the clear blue sky. As I walked into the clearing I could see how the jungle encroached, hiding the structure's massive backside from view. A long rope, anchored securely into the rock offered support for those brave enough to scale its height. I felt I were walking in a dream. Here I stood at the base of the second tallest pyramid in the Americas. Fifteen hundred years ago, it held a sacred place in a thriving community of 50,000 people. No one knows why they left. Know one knows the extent of their secrets that were lost in the leaving. And here I stood gazing up, feeling drawn, somehow connecting to another place and time. With Darryl at my side, we hurried to its base, anxious to test our metal on its dizzying heights. Its steps were shallow and not hard to climb. We scurried up them till our lungs would burst. So many! After several stops along the way, we crested the top and turned to look out over the dense jungle. Another smaller tower rose out of the canopy not too far distant. Two lakes shimmered in the sun a little farther away. Somewhere behind us we could hear the screech of a howler monkey.
A simple, narrow temple capped the ancient structure and two broken stones lay at our feet, presumably for sacrifice. An other world feeling swept over me. What happened here? How many lives were lost? What pacts were made? I longed to stay and gaze out at the landscape so unchanged for centuries, but we had more adventures waiting. More secrets to find around the next bend. And so we left the tower behind, but I know, in some ways, I will always carry it with me.
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