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Coba, Quintana Roo, Mexico

February 10, 2012

I stop to catch my breath, carefully bringing myself to rest on my knees with my fingers tightly gripping a clump of grass stubbornly growing on the weathered, rough surface of the stones.  The only surface I can get a firm hold on.  “Please oh please don’t let me fall!” I think as I glance behind me down the 70 feet of steep uneven steps I’ve just scaled and then hurriedly look back to the top of the temple as a rush of dizziness makes me painfully aware of my fear of heights.  “This was a bad idea!” I whimper to Matt as he starts to pass me, continuing to climb the remaining 68 feet to the top.

“You’re fine”, he promises, “We’ve got to hurry, babe.”   Not knowing when we’d get the chance to come back here, we’d rented a car for the day and planned a route to hit as many Mayan ruins as we could.  Coba is only our second ruin and we’re rushing through it so we’ll have time to drive the half hour to Tulum before dark.  Spurred on by my love of ruins and the immediate injury to my pride at the sight of a mother and her 5-year-old son easily making their way up while I cling to the side, I raise myself up and continue my crouched climb leaning forward and keeping my eyes fixed only on the stones in front of me. I push faster afraid to look down or to the side and as I finally reach the last step I rush forward onto the small plateau flooded with relief at being able to put some distance between myself and the edges of the temple. Continue Reading…