At 5200 meters above sea level, my breath was short and shallow, and I had to make sure my movement was slow and cautious. Surrounding me was a mountain series draped in wonderful strips of colors – red, yellow, green, blue – and it’s aptly called the Rainbow Mountain, located in the Andes of Peru. I wished I could proudly say that I successfully conquered the two-hour hike despite the cold and altitude. But I picked the rather lame option: hiking on horseback. To shake off some guilt, I kept telling myself “I seldom hike, I’m not fit enough, it’s the right decision, and… I’m contributing to local tourism!”

With thick and curly hair, the horse I got up on looked pretty old, judged by its slow and heavy steps (it’s especially obvious when two younger horses trotted past me and disappeared in the distance.) I felt sorry for my horse, and I had to look away when he was whipped by this owner who looked even older. Seemingly over 60’s, the old man holding the lead was dressed in colorful traditional clothing, carrying a bag on one shoulder, and wearing a dusty pair of sandals. Though taking tourists up the mountain was his source of income and he probably trekked the same trail several times a day, I still felt bad that he was walking while I was riding.

After half an hour of self-shaming, I was almost at the summit of the famous mountain. The horse wouldn’t carry us to the top, so we still had to walk for a short distance. The higher we reached, the thinner the air was. I had to catch my breath with every step I put forward. But the effort definitely paid off once I was at the top in awe of the stunning view of the mountain ranges. For those who are looking forward to seeing those vibrant hues you found on social media, you might be a little bit disappointed. Without great lighting and photo filters, the colors were not as vivid as you wish to see.

After taking a few photos to show off on Instagram, I started looking for my friend, who got down the horse before me. I went up to our tour guide, who was ambling around, and asked him if he knew where my friend was using my poor Spanish. “Sabe…donde está mi amiga?” To my surprise, he told me she had just left for a guided tour to another area and wouldn’t be back in an hour or so.

I was a bit confused and disappointed that she left me there on my own, but I thought I could still enjoy the vista and a certain degree of solitude. While I was adjusting the angles of my GoPro and finding the best lighting spot, I heard someone calling “señorita” in my direction. My eyes followed the sound and found a smiling Latino gentleman of around 50 years old, who was sitting on a red and green striped blanket. “¿Puedo tomar una photo para mi hijo?” He asked if I could take a photo for his son. Certainly, I responded with a “si”. I was glad that he asked for my help as I was dying to talk to someone after standing in the cold alone for 15 minutes. But for an instant, I was also wondering why he wouldn’t just get up and do it himself.

Liken to many Peruvians, they are very friendly. The son offered to take some photos for me in return and his old man handed me his chullo, an Andean style of hat with earflaps that is usually made from alpaca, and asked me to wear it for the photo. We sat side by side and chitchatted for a while using simple Spanish (my proficiency level only allowed me to ask and answer certain questions. For the things that I didn’t understand, I used the universal language – smile).

After spending some time with my newfound friends, I no longer felt lonely or angry at my travel buddy when she finally showed up. For the return journey, horse riding was not an option. Everyone had to walk down. The descent turned out to be quite relaxing and enjoyable. Also, the trail was so wide that you wouldn’t block anyone if you wanted to take a rest. While immersing myself in the mighty landscape, I caught sight of the father with who I had a nice conversation at the summit. However, he wasn’t walking down the trail with us. Instead, he was being carried on a sedan chair by porters or family members. It finally dawned on me that it’s not that he was too lazy to get up to take the photo, but simply because he couldn’t.

If I were in the same situation as the father, I probably would never imagine that I could travel, let alone up to 5000 meters. Compared to the view of the Rainbow Mountain, seeing the disabled father found his way to the summit was the most inspiring thing I encountered in the journey and it’s still imprinted in my mind today. A lot of times, it’s our assumptions that limit our imagination and reality. When we are on the verge of giving up something, maybe the question we should ask ourselves is not whether we are capable but if we want it badly enough.