To whip across the Andes mountains, up down and around in a day is enough food for the brain for weeks to come. The sensation that is reached upon impact with the clouds and your face is pure delight. Blind almost at an instant, with nothing breaking the barrier, just a slow fade in to the bright white nothingness that is only seen in dreams. Shrouded by the wispy cloak was the tears of the mountains, pouring down its face as waterfalls. Quickly, though, the beast of a bus on which we rode calmed and was threatened no more.