Ziplining, Homicidal Horses, and Sketchy Tattoo Parlors: YOLO’ing Through Our Last 3 Days in Mexico

So here we were…Day 6 of our 8-day adventure in Puerto Vallarta, and what better way to spend it than heading off to go zip lining and horseback riding. It was time for the eight of us city-slickers to try and be adventurous. To the wilderness we went!

As described on (and copied and pasted from) the Los Veranos Canopy Tours website:

“With more than two miles of cable in a series of 14 zip lines, many over 1100 feet long and over 100 meters high- this tour will be the highlight of your vacation!”

Los-Veranos-Canopy-Tour-640x480Boy were they right. I mean, I don’t know if I’d go far enough to say that it would be the “highlight” of our vacation, although it was definitely up there for most of us. Lupita, I’m sure, probably classifies it as “unforgettable” – but then again a fear of heights will do that to you. I mean, if my math is correct (which most of the time it isn’t – my mom will vouch for this since I just got off the phone with her seeking assistance filing my Nebraska income taxes since math has never been my strong point), then 100 meters high is the same as turning a football field on end…right? That’s pretty high above the ground. So needless to say…it would proove to be unforgettable.

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The Culture Quest

So I realize I’ve been MIA for over a week. First off, yes, I’m alive. I haven’t been mugged, blown away by a giant gust of wind, murdered, or whatever other stereotypical thing you might associate with Chicago. I live on the north side, nowhere close to the south/southwest sides where the majority of gang violence occurs. No. I’ve simply been MIA because I’ve had too much going on this week to even think twice about posting. Hence the reason I’m sitting at home on a Saturday evening like a grandpa in my rocking chair boycotting Boystown in favor of unwinding (with a bottle of wine, of course).

So here we go…

I’m on a mission to attempt to become cultured. Call it Mission Impossible if you will. I say bring it on. And of course, my trusty sidekick and temporary roommate/maid/chef/sleeping-partner/whatever – or “winghoe” as she’s also referred to – will be by my side going balls-to-the-wall on this quest right along with me.

From shopping-fueled fundraising benefits to lectures to scotch tastings, we will become cultured one day/night/event at a time.  Continue reading