I start off on the path with everyone else. We're in the Amazon
rain forest, trying to hear the call of the macaw -- but all I
can hear is talk of redecorating a bathroom back home. As if
that's not bad enough, the boisterous laugh of our hospitable
English-speaking guide scares away any possibility of seeing
howler monkeys or toucans. So when a member of our group tells me
that he's hired a local guide for the day to help him get lost, I
jump at the chance. This is something I've always had an affinity
for, something I've always excelled at, what my family and
friends fear -- getting lost.

We begin at 4:30 a.m., in the pitch black. The fact that I can
barely see, coupled with my oversized black rubber boots, creates
a problematic walking scenario. With my first step, I trip over a
branch. How am I going to do this for eight hours? Our guide,
Leo, is already way ahead of me, so I have no choice but to
charge ahead, trusting the ground beneath me. Amplified by the
darkness, the birds and insects and monkeys sing around me. When
the sun begins to rise, I am a little disappointed.

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