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‘What’s so dangerous about it? Can we make it through?’ I asked.

Karl scoffed at the idea. ‘Not a chance. Four skilled balseros wouldn’t even consider attempting it. And there’s only two of you. It would be suicidal. It’s called Mal Paso San Pedro for good reason. Do you know who San Pedro is? He’s the guy that stands at the Pearly Gates. And that’s just what they meant when they named the pass after him. Anyone who enters the mal paso can expect a personal encounter with San Pedro.’

‘How is it that you know so much about it?’ I asked curiously.

‘I’ve bypassed it over the mountains by foot and seen it from above. When I did it three or four years ago, there was a trail already cut, so it was pretty easy going. The trail was a year old, but I could still use it. By now it’ll be all grown over, and I doubt that you’ll find any trace of it.’

‘Is there any way to tell where we should even look for the trail and how far we can go by raft?’ Kevin asked.

Our original plan had been to come to the mouth of the canyon, dismantle the raft, and put it back together on the other side.

‘Just the two of you won’t be able to do that by yourselves. The only thing you can do is to stop before the canyon and just leave the raft there. If you make it past the pass, you’ll come to Curiplaya. There won’t be a living soul there this time of year. The miners go home at the end of