I woke up this morning well-rested, though a little cold - sleeping by a river has its drawbacks, I’ll have to think about that. I thought I’d be alert, but my body betrayed me; nothing woke me during the night. It turns out, staying awake in the dark is harder than it sounds. Still, I got up and started preparing to explore the area. I’m proud to say I managed to build a fire that was still salvageable. I added some wood to it and set off to „my” waterfall and took a shower. I returned to the camp, cooked a simple breakfast, and considered my next steps.

Contrary to what my muscles were feeling, I hadn’t done everything I needed yesterday to stay here for several days. I decided to gather more wood and keep the fire going, just in case it started raining. I watched how my guides handled it, so I tried to mimic their approach. After that, I set off to explore the stream, determined to approach it strategically.

I walked along the river, observing the forest wall for some paths. After passing the stream, I tried to continue on to bypass the waterfall from the other side. The thick undergrowth behind the stream, however, had decided to return to the river, becoming practically impassable. It was almost as if the beach along the river had been deliberately placed there as a path to the waterfall.

I retreated, choosing the path before the stream. It was far enough away that I could orient myself to the stream itself and avoid straying from the waterfall. But I wasn’t very successful. I fought my way through the bushes. Luckily I had my machete and gun with me. The effort was exhausting, but I didn’t want to backtrack after all I’d already achieved.

The belief that the path would lead me to the waterfall was probably naive. Enough time had passed for me to start feeling hungry. I reached an escarpment, which I assumed would become a waterfall not far away, and decided to climb it. The climb required considerable energy, but I succed. At the summit, I found a narrow, well-trodden path that led me to the waterfall. Standing at the top of the cascade - where I’d previously thought I’d seen a silhouette - I looked around for any sign that someone had been there. Of course, there was none.

But as I stood there, the sun began to hide behind the trees, and I realized my time on the trail was drawing to a close. At one point, the light prevented me from assessing it honestly, but I noticed something strange: along the stream, at the bottom, what I’d previously thought was just a rock had... windows. Now that I’m writing this down, I think it was some form of vegetation, clinging to the rock’s surface or nestled in its crevices. A trick of the light, perhaps, or a trick of my mind.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for in-depth analysis. I wanted to return to camp before dark. So I decided not to follow any new path but to return along the one I’d blazed.

I go to bed again with anxiety. I don’t have a family history of losing my mind, but who knows - maybe I’m the first. Or maybe tomorrow it will turn out that it was indeed just a rock.