Here are some photos from our trip to the jungle trip
during September 2009 in
search of fossils.
(click any photo for a closer look and use your browser's back
button to return)
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A series of photos of getting packed for our
trip. Notice the moisture/bug resistant
barrels. It's 18 hours to the end of the road
and another long day on the river. Over a day and a
half coming upstream back to the road and vehicle.
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Chorry (Wilber Huilca Quispe)--our
fearless (crazy) guide, and youth director of our church, riding on the tip of our boat to
keep the weight balanced.
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Me on a suspension bridge over the river, below the Pongo.
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This is a decent pix of me-most of them were scary.
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(l-r) Hans, Roxana, Hamington, Willian Pezo,
Robert WhatleyWe stayed with Willian and his family while we
hunted for fossils.
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Eliud Diaz (one of our seminary students
from that part of the jungle) helping carry a massive piece of
petrified wood. I don't know how much it weighs but it was
heavy for 2-3 men. When we put it in the LandCruiser the
floor was making noises as we pushed it in. I think it left
a dent. We got it here...somehow.
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Finally out to the shore with the
petrified tree trunk. Grandpa, Gary Whiple, Yep that's me,
almost as filthy as I get, Eliud, Chorry.
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Here's the skull that we went to get. They expected it to
be much longer and narrower at the nose (left side) it is
short and rounded. That makes me think it's a dinosaur. It
is the top of his head. You are looking at the roof of his
mouth.
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I'm sitting on a petroglyph. Rocks that were somehow
marked many years ago. We don't know how they did it.
We don't know who did it. They have tried to duplicate, but
with no success. When the river comes up it polishes
off the "new" stuff, but the old stuff stays the same.
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Headed back up river in a dugout canoe--with an
outboard motor stuck on the back.
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Kids in the jungle grow up on the river. We regularly saw
two and three year old kids swimming where they couldn't
touch with no adult in reach. These kids picture here were
most likely responsible
for dinner, probably while their parents made or drank
liquor.
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We had to campout on a beach on our way up river. Here we're
packing the boat to head up river again.
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This girl came by the car as we were
stopped waiting for Grandpa Whatley to get back with the two
tires that had gone flat. I gave her a tract. She ran
throughout the community, bringing every kid she could find.
We gave each one a tract.
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We passed out hundreds of "Chick" tracts
along the way. They are always well
received. (We even put some in empty soda
bottles that we dried out and threw them to
folks as we went along in the boat.) They also
are great for "one contact" situations, where
you may never see that person again, and
you have no idea where they are spiritually. |
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Sharing God's love in the Andes
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