Lost in the Rainforest | Into the Jungle | 1
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A listener note, Against the Odds uses dramatizations that are based on true events. Some elements, including dialogue, may be invented, but everything is based on research. Yossi Ginsberg clenches his teeth and tries to swing his leg over a fallen banyan tree, blocking his path. But it's no use. He's so weakened by hunger, he doesn't have the strength.

It's mid-December 1981, and Yossi has been wandering in the Bolivian jungle, lost and alone for what feels like forever. He leans against a tree and thinks for a minute. How long has it been since he saw another person? Two weeks? Three? He looks down at his legs. Patches of red, blotchy skin are visible through his torn jeans.

The rash he'd noticed a few days ago is spreading. His swollen feet throb inside his hiking boots. The last time he'd managed to pull them off, his feet were unrecognizable. Just masses of bloody flesh, rotting from the constant dampness of the rainforest. He hoists his backpack and limps down the length of the tree trunk, dragging himself along with his walking stick. If he can't climb over the tree, he'll have to go around it.

After a few minutes, he's back on the path, if you can even call it that. He's trying to return to the river, to a sandy beach he stumbled on a few days ago. If he can get there, where he's not obscured by the thick jungle canopy, then maybe, just maybe, a rescue plane might spot him. He doesn't have much time. He's so weak, he's begun to hallucinate, seeing people who aren't there.

This was supposed to be the adventure of a lifetime. A chance to explore the jungle and encounter remote indigenous tribes. Instead, he's fighting for his life. The rainforest floor is damp and muddy, covered in puddles from a recent flash flood. He's sloshed his way through dozens of them. But this time, when he steps into a puddle, he realizes he can't pull his foot out. He looks down to see both his feet sinking slowly into a bog.

He strains to lift one foot up, but it won't budge. He pushes down on his walking stick, but it gets swallowed up too. Yossi lunges forward, stretching to grasp some nearby reeds, but they tear loose as soon as he pulls on them. He looks around, frantic. He's now submerged to his thighs. "This is it," he thinks. "This is how I will die."

He thinks of his parents back home in Israel, how his body will never be found. He feels his heart pulsing in his chest as his body sinks lower and the earth slowly swallows him up.

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In 1981, 22-year-old Yossi Ginsberg was backpacking through South America. Several months into his trip, he embarked on a trek with three other men through the Bolivian jungle. Yossi was entranced by the idea of meeting remote tribes and maybe even discovering gold. But it didn't take long for the four men to realize they had taken on more than they bargained for.

Then, an accident left Yossi alone, lost in one of the most inhospitable places on Earth. This is Episode 1: Into the Jungle. Yossi Ginzburg gasps for air as he scrambles up a steep path carved into a rocky slope. It's late October 1981. Yossi and his traveling companion, Marcus Stamm, are visiting the Peruvian island of Tequilé, which rises from the waters of Lake Titicaca.

The lake is more than two miles above sea level. And now the two men are climbing another several hundred feet to the peak of the tiny island. Yossi has to stop every minute just to catch his breath. He glances at Marcus, who's five years older. He's barely broken a sweat. What's your secret, Marcus? I'm dying here. Marcus laughs. I'm from Switzerland. This altitude feels like home.

Yossi grins and starts back up the path. At last, they reach the peak of Tequilé and pause to take in the view. The Andes Mountains loom in the distance, and far below them, fishing boats chug across the waters of Titicaca. Yossi is traveling across Peru to visit the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu. He'd wondered if this side trip to Tequilé would be worth it.

Now he's certain it was, if only to meet Marcus, who introduced himself on the ferry that morning. Like Yossi, Marcus is backpacking through South America. Yossi came to South America six months ago, hoping for real adventure, not just the usual tourist sites. He imagined jungle expeditions in search of uncontacted tribes.

It was a trip he'd dreamed of for years while he served out his mandatory service in the Israeli military. But now his money is running out. It's almost time to head back to Israel. It's been the trip of a lifetime, but still, he's feeling a little disappointed. The closest he got to an indigenous tribe was in the Ecuadorian jungle, and they were dressed in Western-style shorts and t-shirts, so much for remote.

As they sit admiring the view, Marcus explains his plans, which already seem to include Yossi. We'll go to La Paz, Bolivia's capital city. Those French girls we met on the boat this morning are heading there too. We can all explore the city together. Yossi laughs. Thanks, but I want to see Machu Picchu before I head back to Israel. Why don't you come with me? I go to La Paz too, but I don't have the money to do both.

Look, how about this? I have enough cash for the both of us. La Paz will be much more fun if I have a friend to share it with.

I don't want to take your money, Marcus, but I'll think about it. Marcus seems to take this as a yes. Excellent. Then it's settled. Now let's get off this mountain and go find some dinner. Yossi laughs at Marcus's enthusiasm. He's only known Marcus for a few hours, but he really enjoys his company. The two men take a last look at the vista and begin to trot down the stone path. Yossi has to admit...

South America is more fun with company.

Yossi Ginzburg knocks on the door of Marcus Stamm's hotel room in La Paz, but there's no answer. Marcus is probably out again with Anik, one of the women they met on the boat to Tequila. Yossi is happy for his friend, but it's just another sign that it's time for him to move on. He's already spent several days in La Paz, and he's getting restless. In the lobby, he writes a note and asks the woman at the front desk to give it to Marcus.

Then he walks out the front door of the hotel and into the hustle and bustle of La Paz. As he starts down the street, a man falls into step beside him. "Hello. Do you know the Swiss man?" Yossi looks over to see a tall, solidly built man with receding brown hair. His European accent and blue eyes tell Yossi that he's not from around here. Yossi glances at him, then continues walking. "If you mean Marcus, he'll be back."

The man follows him. I'm Carl Reprechter. I'm from Austria, but I've lived in Bolivia for 10 years now. Yossi grips the man's outstretched hand. Yossi Ginsberg, pleasure to meet you. Carl explains that he's a geologist who works mostly in the jungle, searching for gold and antiquities. At the mention of the word jungle, Yossi's interest is piqued. Huh, what an unusual way to make a living. I have some photos if you'd like to see them.

The two men walk to a nearby square, where elderly Bolivians are feeding corn kernels to pigeons. They find an unoccupied bench and sit. Carl takes a packet of photos from his backpack. Yossi is transfixed. It's Carl in the photos, but he looks like a different man. He's wearing a broad-brimmed hat and khaki pants, with a shotgun strapped over his shoulder.

In one photo, he's skinning a wild boar. In another, he's gutting a fish. Carl explains that he's preparing another expedition, where he'll venture into an unexplored part of the Bolivian jungle and search for precious metals. You should join me. It's usually just me and some local porters. It'd be good to have a gringo along for company. Yossi hesitates. He'd been planning to head back to Israel soon.

He's running out of money and time, but Carl seems to have read his mind. You can come for as long as you'd like. If you need to leave, I'll have one of the porters lead you back to the nearest village. But in the meantime, it'll be great. We'll hunt game, sleep under the stars. Your only expense will be a plane ticket. We'll fly out to a small village in the jungle and start our journey there.

Yossi feels his pulse quicken. The jungle with a real-life adventurer. His imagination leaps at the possibilities. Golds, rivers, meeting up with tribes who have never encountered outsiders. It's everything he dreamed of when he came to South America.

They agree to meet the next day at this very spot. In the meantime, Yossi decides to find Marcus and see if his friend is interested. As exciting as the trip sounds, it would be even better with someone he knows. Kevin Gale ambles down a narrow avenue in La Paz, his friend Marcus Stamm beside him.

Kevin is a 29-year-old American photographer. He's been traveling through South America for almost two years. And he's done it all. Trekked up mountains, rafted down rivers, all with his camera gear slung over his shoulders. He met Marcus several weeks ago in Patagonia and bumped into him again just the other day. Now, Marcus wants to introduce him to another friend. Kevin turns to Marcus. Wait, who are we meeting again? Kevin.

Mm, that sounds a little sketchy. Marcus nods.

At the plaza, Marcus scans the crowd and points out Yossi, who's standing beside another man with a deeply tanned face. They walk over, and the man introduces himself with a smile and a strong handshake. Karl Reprechter. Kevin soon finds himself won over by Karl. The Austrian shows them his photos and exudes a quiet confidence, seeming to anticipate their every concern.

Carl takes out a sheet of paper and sketches a map of where they'll go. He draws rivers and mountain ranges and describes the course they'll take through the jungle and the remote tribe that lives there. Kevin doesn't say it, but he has to admit the prospect of a trek into the jungle sounds appealing. He's done a lot during his time in South America, but still hasn't been part of a serious expedition into the rainforest. Most intriguing is the chance to meet the remote tribespeople.

and maybe even be the first person to photograph them. Carl, you clearly know the area, but I'd be more comfortable with a real map. Can we get one? Carl frowns. Kevin can see that he's not used to being doubted. You can try, but good luck finding one. This area is pretty much uncharted. The only reason I know my way around is because I've been there so many times. Kevin looks at the map and points at a line that represents a river.

Could we travel partway by river? I grew up whitewater rafting in the Pacific Northwest. It's faster than hiking and more fun. Carl shakes his head. This is my work, not a pleasure trip. To search for minerals, we need to be on land. But perhaps we can build a raft for your trip back on the Tuichi River? Carl gives them until that evening to think it over, then says goodbye and disappears into the crowds around the plaza. But Kevin doesn't need until evening.

As soon as Carl's gone, he speaks up. I'm in. I really want to photograph this tribe. This will be amazing, guys. Yossi pumps his fist in excitement. There was never any doubt that he was in, too. But Marcus hesitates.

I don't know, guys. I really wanted to spend some more time with Onik, and then I'm supposed to head back to Switzerland soon. But Kevin and Yossi are insistent. This expedition could be life-changing, and they don't want Marcus to miss it.

Finally, after much persuading, Marcus nods. Okay, okay, I'm in too. Woo! Yes! Yeah! Kevin is relieved. He likes Yossi already, but they only just met. He and Marcus have traveled together before, and Kevin knows he can trust him. He feels much better knowing Marcus will be part of the group. Now they need to start gathering supplies, starting with a map.

Carl may know the jungle like the back of his hand, but what if something happens to him? Kevin knows they need to be prepared for every possible outcome. Yossi Ginzburg peers down at the list of supplies as he and Carl head to the next shop. So far, they've bought sugar, salt, tea, cooking utensils, waterproof sacks, and a machete. Or rather, Yossi has bought everything. Carl has just pointed out to him what to buy.

Yossi is glad he finally gave in and accepted some of Marcus's money. This expedition is getting expensive. Next up are mosquito nets. As they pass a bookstore, Yossi pauses. Let's see if they have a map inside. No need! I know this area like the back of my hand. I know, but Kevin is anxious about us not having one. And I think it would be a good idea. Carl shrugs, and the two men enter the bookstore.

The pickings are slim. Finally, they locate a map of Bolivia. The scale of the map is vast, and Yossi wonders if it will be of any use to them. Still, he buys it. On the way back to the hotel, they pass a post office, and Carl goes inside to check his mail. As Yossi watches over their bags, he takes in the rush of humanity on the streets of La Paz. Soon, they'll be out of the city, and they'll be the only people for miles.

He imagines the solitude, the jungle noises, the beauty. Maybe they'll even find gold. He looks up to see Carl walking out of the post office with a letter in his hand. He's shaking his head. Bad news, Yossi. I have an uncle who also lives in Bolivia. This letter is from him. He just bought a new truck and in a few weeks, he needs me to drive it from La Paz to his ranch. I can't say no to him. I'll have to cancel our trip.

Yossi can't believe it. He looks down at all the gear he's bought. All of this for nothing. Karl had raised his hopes so high, and now to have them dashed is crushing. He pleads with Karl. "What if we go just for a month? Then you'd be home in time to help your uncle." Karl shakes his head. "No, I'm not a tourist like you. I need to make a living. I can't just wander around the jungle."

Yossi runs a hand through his hair and looks around, as if maybe a passerby will have a solution. But that's it. The trip is done. Over before it even began. Carl rubs his chin. Look, there might be a way. We could go for just a month, and I could be your guide. But you'd have to pay me.

Yossi feels a surge of relief. Of course, he and Marcus and Kevin can pool their money. Yossi is sure he can convince them. With Carl as their guide, this can still be the trip of a lifetime.

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Head over to Symbiotica.com and use code ODDS for 20% off and free shipping on your subscription order. Yossi Ginsberg steps out of a prop plane that's just landed in the remote jungle town of Apolo, Bolivia. The air is thick with humidity. It's November 4th, 1981, and Yossi can't believe his good fortune. After all their preparation, they're finally here in the Amazon rainforest.

As his feet touch the airstrip, he wipes away the sweat streaming down his face. The humidity makes him feel like he's wrapped in a warm, wet blanket. He turns to see Carl, Kevin, and Marcus assembling their bags. It took some doing, but he managed to convince the others to chip in and pay Carl to be their guide.

Now, they're just as excited as Yossi about their trip. Yossi takes in the surroundings. There's no terminal, just a landing strip surrounded by jungle. "Where do we catch a taxi to town?" Carl chuckles. "Uh, there's no town to speak of. We start our walk from here."

Carl explains the route they'll be taking. First, it's a two-day hike to the village of Asarimas. There, they'll replenish their supplies for a six-day hike to the Toromonas Indian Village. After that, they'll head to the deserted mining camp of Cori Playa. They'll pan for gold, then build a raft and let the river take them 120 miles to the town of Rurinabake. Then, it's a flight back to La Paz.

As Yossi hoists his backpack over his shoulders, he feels a twinge of anxiety. They will be covering so much ground, going to places that are miles from civilization. He's reassured that Carl seems to know what he's doing. Still, he's glad he sent a letter to his brother Moshe back in Israel before they left. He told his brother his plans, and that if Moshe didn't hear from him by early January, it means he's in trouble.

Yossi is sure it won't come to that, but better safe than sorry. Kevin Gale takes a gulp of humid tropical air as he swims across the Tuichi River. Before he jumped in, the wide river looked slow-moving. But now that he's trying to freestyle to the other side, he can feel the undertow, and it's strong. He glances toward his destination on the far bank, a group of straw huts.

Carl says this is the village of Asariyamas, their launching point into the jungle. When they first reached the banks of the Tuichi, Carl reassured them that a villager would spot them and come fetch them on a balsa raft. But the longer they waited, the more impatient Kevin grew. They were four days into their journey and already behind schedule. Finally, Kevin announced he would swim across. He's a strong swimmer, having grown up among the rivers of the Pacific Northwest.

His feet touch the bottom, and he stands and makes his way up the bank. He looks back at Carl, Marcus, and Yossi, and sees that the current pushed him at least 80 yards downstream.

Dripping wet, Kevin makes his way upriver toward the huts. As he approaches, he sees villagers. They look at him in surprise. He can imagine how foreign he must look to them, a tall, fair-haired North American. But he speaks enough Spanish, and so do they. And soon, two villagers are paddling a raft across the river to pick up the others. While he drives off on the riverbank, Kevin ponders the mysterious Carl.

Around the campfire the other night, he said his degree was in agriculture, but he'd first introduced himself as a geologist. Kevin wonders, not for the first time, if they're right to put so much trust in him.

Within minutes, the raft arrives with Carl, Marcus, and Yossi aboard. They unload their supplies, and Kevin retrieves his camera gear. Carl asks in Spanish for a man named Don Jorge. The villagers nod, responding as if he'd uttered a secret password. One offers to guide them to Don Jorge's farm. There, Carl explains they can purchase supplies and spend one last night sleeping on straw mats before they head into the jungle.

Kevin shakes off his doubts. Clearly, Carl has been here before. Marcus' dam sighs as he steps once again into the cold river. They only left Don Jorge's farm this morning, and it's already a slog. The plan, as Marcus understands it,

is to follow this tributary upstream from the Tuichi. From there, they'll cross a mountain range, then finally reach the Toromonas Indian Village. But their progress is slow. While this smaller river isn't as wide as the Tuichi, it's fast moving and cold. Worse, the jungle grows densely right up to its edge, so the four men frequently have to trudge through water against the current. At first, they took off their boots and socks each time they had to step into the river.

but it was slowing them down too much. So now they just stomp into the river with boots on. Marcus feels his skin getting rubbed raw inside his boot. He knows hiking in wet shoes and socks is a recipe for blisters. Then the rain starts to fall, cold and stinging. Their packs are heavier than before, with rations replenished at Don Jorge's. Things like smoked pork, rice, and coffee.

He glances ahead at Kevin, whose photography gear must weigh 30 pounds. How does he do it? Above them, the gray sky starts to darken. Nighttime is coming. The patter of rain on the forest canopy starts to ease, replaced by the incessant buzzing and chirping of jungle creatures. The rainforest at night is almost louder than the city.

Marcus has had trouble sleeping through all the racket of birds, insects, monkeys, and God knows what else. Just then, up ahead, Carl turns to face them. "It's getting dark. Let's make camp and eat." Marcus groans with relief. He was close to collapsing. He has no idea how Carl has the strength to set up their tent, strike a fire, and cook their dinner. But that's what we're paying him for, he thinks. It's almost like he's their father.

He calls out to Karl. "Thanks, Papa." Karl looks back at Markus and grins. "We'll have rice and pork tonight, but tomorrow we'll kill something and eat fresh meat. There's plenty of game in the jungle." Markus' stomach growls, and he feels ashamed. He hates the idea of killing an animal to satisfy his own hunger. Hopefully it won't come to that. But if it does, he's glad Karl is here to do the dirty work.

Yossi Ginzburg sidles up to Kevin Gale as the two make their way along a narrow path just off the banks of the river. Twenty yards ahead of them, Karl and Markus lead the way, speaking to each other in German. Yossi turns to Kevin. "Is it me or is Markus getting annoying?" Kevin laughs. "It's not you. He is getting annoying. All he does is complain about his feet and how there's never enough food."

It's November 11th, two days since they left Don Jorge's farm. They still have rations, rice and some smoked pork, but they're going through them quickly. And they're still at least three days from the Toromonas village. They hear the sharp thwacks of Carl's machete as he makes his way through the brush ahead of them, clearing a path roughly parallel to the river. Then Carl calls out, Kevin, get your camera!

Yossi and Kevin both quicken their pace until they emerge onto the river. There's a wide riverbank here, and Carl is standing on it, surrounded by thousands of butterflies. They swirl around him, a kaleidoscope of colors, purple, blue, green, yellow, floating and darting like tiny airborne jewels.

It's a scene of such startling beauty that Yossi finds himself momentarily speechless. Kevin scrambles to unpack and assembles camera. After days of hiking, it's a precious moment. This is why we came here, Yossi thinks. He sits down on a rock and takes it all in.

After a few minutes, Carl points toward the mountains that stretch up above the river. "It's time we cross the mountain. It's going to be a tough climb, but it's the only way to the Indian village. Ready?" Yossi sighs and hoists his pack. He'd rather stay here among the butterflies, but he knows they have a schedule to keep. He follows him behind Kevin and Marcus as they follow Carl into the jungle.

Yossi climbs out of the tent to see that Carl is already up, stoking the embers of last night's fire to heat up water for coffee. Carl points to the riverbank about 15 yards away from their tent. "Well, we had a visitor last night." There in the soft sand are the unmistakable prints of a four-legged animal. Jaguar. And judging by the tracks, a big one. Lucky our fire burned through the night. Yossi feels a chill despite the heat.

He signed up for adventure, not a close encounter with a jaguar. Although at this point, he's so hungry, he finds himself wondering what jaguar meat tastes like. It's been five days since they left Don Jorge's farm, and things aren't going well. They've run out of all their provisions except rice and coffee. And so far, Carl's promises of bagging game have come up short.

The only things he's successfully killed are a monkey and a sloth, and neither was big enough to feed four people. They're all beginning to starve, and their feet are badly blistered. Still, Yossi is optimistic. Carl says when they reach the Torremonas Indian village in another day or two, they can barter liquor and trinkets for food. But last night, Marcus announced he'd had enough. He wanted to turn back.

After the four men argued for hours, they finally agreed to sleep on it. Now it's the morning, decision time. Marcus is sitting by the embers of the campfire, examining his blistered bare feet. He looks up at Yossi. Well, have you changed your mind? Not a chance. Whatever happens, we'll make it. Let's keep going. Marcus sighs and turns to Kevin, who's just emerging from the tent.

Well, Kevin, it's up to you. Since Carl is our guide and we're paying him, he doesn't really have a vote, so you have to break the tie. Kevin looks at the jaguar tracks. For a long time, he's silent, and Yossi wonders what's taking him so long. He's sure Kevin wants to continue, but then Kevin shakes his head. Fine, let's head back. I think it's the most prudent course right now.

Yossi is stunned. "Kevin, you can't be serious." "I'm sorry, Yossi. I think we need to regroup." Over Yossi's protests, Kevin explains the plan. They'll go back to Don Jorge's and build a raft so they can travel at least part of the way by river instead of hiking through the jungle. It probably means skipping the Torremonas tribe, but better that than abandoning the trip entirely. Surprisingly, Carl endorses Kevin's decision.

In the end, Yossi decides to swallow his disappointment. Without further protest, he starts packing up the campsite.

He's sorry that they won't get to visit the uncontacted Indian tribe, and he's frustrated that they'll be backtracking. But at least they'll still be together. And who knows? Maybe Kevin's idea for a river rafting trip will turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he's been looking for.

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Yossi Ginsberg lifts a 10-pound bag of rice onto the raft that they'll be taking down the Tuichi River.

They've been back at Don Jorge's farm for more than a week now, resting, eating well, buying up rations, and overseeing the construction of the raft. Now that it's time to leave again, they're all excited. Even Marcus.

He initially intended to abandon the trip and fly back to La Paz, but as he saw the raft take shape, he decided to stay. This expedition promises to be simpler than their first attempt. Instead of hiking through the jungle, they're going to take the raft downriver. They'll camp on the riverbank at night and stop at Curri Playa, the abandoned mining camp, where Carl says they have a good chance of finding some gold.

Yossi sizes up the craft. It's very secure. Balsa logs tethered tightly together with leather straps. Carl even built a raised platform in the center of the raft, where they can secure all their supplies and cover them with a nylon tarp to keep them dry. Besides the rice, they've loaded the raft with beans and fruit, as well as essentials like fishing line, hooks, insect repellent, mosquito netting, and a first aid kit.

Finally, it's time. The four men use poles to push off from the riverbank. As their craft gets further from shore, Yossi is glad to be back on the move again. The raft nears the center of the wide river, and Yossi feels the current quicken. From a distance, the river looked calm, but out here, the water is choppy and slowing fast. Yossi steps closer toward the center platform in case he loses his balance.

From up front, Carl instructs them to row with the poles, but Kevin corrects him. "Carl, these are poles, not oars! How are we supposed to row?" The poles were designed to help them steer by pushing off the river bottom, but the river is too deep and the poles are too short. They're at the mercy of the current. As they're propelled downstream, Yossi sees that the river is narrowing and running faster.

Then he looks ahead and sees a rock jutting out of the water. Carl yells out, Watch out! Now pull to the left, Kevin! To the left! Carl turns to Yossi and Marcus. When we get near that boulder, jam your pole against it to steer us clear of it. As the boulder approaches, Marcus loses his grip on his pole, and the current yanks it away. Now it's up to Yossi. He jams his pole into the boulder.

But their momentum is too great, and the raft crashes right into it. But they're still upright, and within seconds, they're past the boulder. Yossi feels a rush of relief. Then he looks downstream. Rocks jut up everywhere. The river is a minefield of obstacles. "Careful!" He hears Carl yelling out instructions. "Go, go, go!" He sounds almost hysterical. Finally, they manage to pull over to the shore.

Carl is practically quaking in fear. "We can't go on like this! You're all clueless!" Kevin scoffs. "I've been river rafting since I was a kid, and Marcus and Yossi can learn. We just started. They'll get the hang of it. They'd better, or we'll all be killed. If we're going to travel down this river, you all must follow my instructions, including you, Kevin."

And this is the easy part. There are some rapids coming up that only skilled rafters can navigate. But as they're pushing the raft back into the current, Kevin leans over to Yossi and mutters in his ear, "Carl's the one who's clueless. Who ever heard of trying to row with a round pole? He doesn't know the first thing about rafting." Yossi doesn't know what to think. He just hopes that this new means of travel doesn't turn out to be worse than going on foot.

Yossi tries to keep pace with Carl, who is just ahead of him, whacking his way through the jungle. They've been rafting now for four days, camping on the riverbank at night and navigating rapids by day. Yossi thinks it's been going well so far. Carl used the machete to carve some oars out of a balsa tree, and Kevin got them through a set of rapids that Carl said was impassable. But the farther down the river they travel, the more nervous Carl seems to get.

He calls over his shoulder. "I'm telling you, Yossi, those last rapids were nothing compared to Malpaso San Pedro. No one has ever made it through that canyon alive. You may think it's too much work to go around, but you'll thank me when you see it." For the past four days, that's all Carl has been able to talk about: Malpaso San Pedro, or St. Peter's Canyon.

According to him, it's so dangerous they have to make absolutely sure they get out of the river before they get caught in the rapids. That's what they're doing now, scouting ahead to ensure there's a riverbank where they can bring the raft ashore. Then, Carl's plan is to disassemble the raft and send the unoccupied pieces through the canyon while they hike around and retrieve the pieces on the other side. From there, they can reassemble the raft and complete their journey.

To Yossi, it all sounds way too complicated. But Carl insists it's their only option. As he swipes through the vegetation with the machete, Carl keeps muttering darkly. "Ugh, I must be out of my mind guiding you guys through this canyon. What if we miss our stopping place and get swept into it? We'll be as good as dead. And even if we get past the canyon, I won't be back in civilization for weeks."

I promised my uncle I'd be back in La Paz in one month. That's only four days from now. Suddenly, he stops, turns around, and meets Yossi's gaze. Give me one good reason why I should continue. Yossi thinks about the burning rash on his feet, the stinging fire ants that swarm their camp every night, the monotonous meals of rice and beans, and the perilous rapids that await.

If he's being honest, he's not sure he wants to continue either. When Yossi doesn't respond, Carl pauses, then nods his head. Okay, I've made up my mind. I'm going back.

You can all come with me or go on ahead. We can do some fishing on the way, we can bathe in the river. Isn't that what you came here for? To spend some time in the jungle? Well, we've done it. Now, let's go home. The two men turn around and head back to Kevin and Marcus, who are waiting near the raft on the riverbank. When Carl announces his plans to them, no one objects. They decide to turn back.

Yossi walks over to a boulder near the riverbank and sits on top of it. He looks up and notices Kevin standing near him. Look, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty pissed off. Carl promised us an Indian village. That didn't happen. He promised we'd be panning for gold. That hasn't happened either. And now that we're finally rafting down the river, he wants to call that all off too? This trip has been a complete bust. Kevin hesitates a moment.

Then he speaks again, this time in almost a whisper. "We can do this, Yossi. We can go on alone." "Just you and me? What about Marcus?" "No way!"

He would only slow us down. Besides, don't you think he'd rather stay with Carl? He still calls him Papa, for God's sake. They can walk back together. Marcus will be fine as long as he stays with Carl. Yossi ponders this. Part of him feels bad at the thought of abandoning Marcus. But Kevin's proposal has sparked his sense of adventure again. Kevin has already proven himself to be a skilled Whitewater rafter. And he and Yossi make a good team.

Yossi smiles and nods. "Let's do it!" Yossi secures the last of his and Kevin's supplies to the raft. Carl has agreed to let them take the machete, the nylon tarp, the fishing gear, and most of the food. Carl and Marcus will take the shotgun and the tent. Carl says he knows a shortcut through the jungle, away from the river, that will get him and Marcus back to Don Jorge's farm in just a few days.

It's the morning of December 1st, 1981. After breaking camp, the four men are ready to split up. Yossi was afraid Carl would be angry when he and Kevin announced their plan, but he was more concerned than angry. He offered them lots of advice for working their way around Malpaso San Pedro and promised to look after Marcus. Now Carl stands there, clutching the shotgun with a knife dangling from his belt.

He sizes up Kevin and Yossi as if he's a drill sergeant and they're recruits heading off to war. Let's hope you're not fish bait by this time tomorrow. He grins and shakes Yossi's hand, then Kevin's. Marcus does the same. Carl's smile fades. Whatever you do, stay together. Even if one of you is hurt, stay on the riverbank and help will come eventually.

Marcus promises he'll notify the authorities in La Paz if Yossi and Kevin don't reach out to him by December 15th. Two weeks from now, Kevin waves his hand dismissively. Don't be so worried. We plan to make it back to La Paz before you do. They all laugh, and then it's time to part. Marcus lingers a bit, like he's still torn about leaving them.

Looking at him, Yossi feels a surge of guilt. He convinced Marcus that it would be safer if they stayed in pairs. But he can sense that Marcus understands what's really going on. That Kevin and Yossi are rejecting his company. Still, he manages a weak smile. "See you in La Paz. I'll be praying for you." And with that, Yossi watches Marcus and Carl disappear into the jungle. He turns to Kevin.

Now they're really alone, and the river awaits.

This is episode one of our three-part series, Lost in the Rainforest. A quick note about our scenes. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but everything is based on historical research. If you'd like to learn more about this event, we highly recommend the book Jungle by Yossi Ginsberg. I'm your host, Cassie DePeckel. Steve Fennessy wrote this episode. Our editor is Alyssa Adams. Script consulting by Yossi Ginsberg. Script consulting by Yossi Ginsberg.

Sound design and Dolby Atmos mix by Awhouse Audio. Audio engineer is Sergio Enriquez. Coordinating producer is Desi Blaylock. Produced by Alita Rosansky and Emily Frost. Managing producer is Matt Gant. Senior managing producer is Matt Gant. Welcome to The Offensive Line. You guys, on this podcast, we're going to make some picks, talk some s**t, and hopefully make you some money in the process. I'm your host, Annie Agar.

So here's how this show is going to work, okay? We're going to run through the weekly slate of NFL and college football matchups, breaking them down into very serious categories like No offense. No offense, Travis Kelsey, but you got to step up your game if Pat Mahomes is saying the Chiefs need to have more fun this year. We're also handing out a series of awards and making picks for the top storylines surrounding the world of football. Awards like the He May Have a Point Award for the wide receiver that's most justifiably bitter.

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