Lives of Wander

Continued. Read the first part here.

Day 3
The rain that started the minute we got into our tents last night hasn’t let up by morning despite my numerous pleas to whatever gods will hear me, so we crawl out of our warm sleeping bags into a cold, wet day at 5:00 a.m. We have 15 km to cover, rain or shine. Behind us, Dead Woman’s Pass is covered in snow.

Ahead of us another pass waits, the Trail’s second, which we must climb 450 meters to reach. We begin the ascent, taking one short break in the rain to check out the ruins of Runkuracay, a resting spot for Machu Picchu pilgrims.

Through the pass, we descend to about the same elevation we started the day at and then climb again to the third pass. On our way, we pass through the first of two Inca Tunnels, magnificent passageways chiseled from enormous rock slabs, and walk again though cloud forest.

We also pass more Inca ruins, the most intact and impressive along the path. Lunch comes early today, and with it, the end of the rain. It’s been a wet morning, but as it is the wet season, we’ve been remarkably lucky that this is all we have encountered. Though I had my fingers crossed, I half expected to walk in the rain all day every day. Blue skies and sunshine roll in for the afternoon, which is fortunate as the hardest part of the day’s hike awaits us: the Gringo Killer. For over 2.5 hours, we must go down. Someone says there are over 2,000 stairs. I don’t count. I just know there are a lot. By the time we make camp at Winay Wayna, just before dinner, all of our knees are screaming. Since the porters are leaving us after breakfast the next morning, we have a short thank you ceremony for them, and then we all fall, literally, into our tents, absolutely exhausted.

Day 4
The benefit of yesterday’s long day is that we are as close to Machu Picchu as anyone on the Inca Trail can be. Trail regulations keep anyone from hiking before 5:30 a.m., but as soon as the clock turns, we are off, racing to the Sun Gate to get our first view of Machu Picchu. Though it’s barely dawn, the day looks clear. We can only hope it lasts as we speedwalk a couple of miles through more “Inca Flats.” As with the whole trail, it’s “no pain, no gain,” so we must make a good climb before reaching the Sun Gate. We haul ourselves up and then gape down at Machu Picchu, spread out before us.

Though many others (including plenty of people who went in the dry season) told us to expect rain, mist, or at minimum clouds covering the site, we are blessed with blue skies and sunshine.  Our view is clear. A few thin clouds pass by but we have a perfect view down on the amazingly well-preserved ruins of Machu Picchu.

After snapping lots of photos, we continue down to the site for close exploration. For two hours, our guide leads us to some of the more significant sites. We then spend a few more hours exploring on our own, marveling at the perfect stonework of the temples, admiring the ingenuity of the fountains and water systems, wondering just how they managed to carve the terraces into the steepness of the mountainside, and just enjoying what truly is one of the wonders of the world.

The Classic Inca Trail is a four day hike, covering 26 miles. Here’s how it broke down for us.

Day 1
Around 5:30 a.m., we board a bus in Cusco and travel 1.5 hours to Ollantaytambo, where we have a chance to eat breakfast and grab any last minute items we forgot. We then continue on to the start of the Inca Trail, where we pass through the official checkpoint, take a group photo, and begin our day’s 12 kilometers of hiking.

This is the easiest day and the hiking takes place along what is referred to as the “Inca Flat.” Apparently Peruvians have a very different idea of flat than I do, because we are pretty much going uphill most of the time. The ascent isn’t extreme, but we do gain over 1,500 feet during the course of the day, with one rather steep section. A good introduction, it gets our lungs burning and our hearts panting.

During the morning, we follow the course of the Urubamba River, stopping to allow locals with their llamas to pass, to learn about the use of native plants, and to see our first set of ruins.

Lunch comes late, at around 2:30, and it’s a lot more food than we are expecting, a lot more food than I usually like to eat when I hike. Two more hours of uphill walking leads us to our first camp, in the rural setting of Wayllabamba. After another multi-course meal, we all fall into our tents, exhausted after a long day of walking and so very thankful for the porters who have everything so perfectly set up when we arrive. They are absolutely incredible, carrying giant packs and practically running the trail as we pant along at a snail’s pace. I’m in awe.

Day 2
The crow of a rooster wakes us before our official 5:30 a.m. wake-up time. Another 12 km day awaits us, but this one promises to be much more difficult as it involves going up, up, up, up, up, and up. For five hours, we haul ourselves up to the aptly-named Dead Woman’s Pass. We break it into three sections; the first section is a short one that involves only one hour of hiking before a short stop where the group, all moving at different paces, regroups.

The next stretch is two hours and involves climbing step after step after step. Luckily, the climb is through beautiful cloud forest, the waterfalls and flowers and hummingbirds inspiring us to continue putting one foot in front of another.

A mini-lunch of sandwiches, popcorn, and tea awaits us at the next break, as does the first real rain of our trip. With two hours of climbing in front of us, we can’t wait it out, so we set out in the rain, which fortunately doesn’t last more than an hour. We’ve now passed beyond the tree line and must clamber up a dirt path, the scrub bushes on the side of the path serving as mini-goals—just 10 more yards and then I can catch my breath.

The final ascent to the 4,200 meter pass, the highest elevation on the trail, involves a steep staircase.

We drag ourselves up it, and then from the top, look down in awe at the distance we have covered.

Unfortunately, we can’t bask in the glory for long as the hard work isn’t over. To get to the Paqaymayu campsite, the day’s destination, we now must descend 700 meters. Thanks to the day’s rains, the stone steps are slippery and in parts it seems like we’re walking down a waterfall. It’s slow going, but thanks to the day’s early start, we arrive in camp in early afternoon, where we pass the rest of the day eating (or at least that’s how it seems with lunch, tea, and dinner following one after another).

To Be Continued…
(Sorry, I hate those endings too, but my connection is slow right now making the illustrating of the text with photos brutal. Plus I have an early morning flight back to Lima, so this will have to do for now. Check back Friday for the final installment.)

We survived. My brother Gregory, Jeff, and I have made our pilgrimage to Machu Picchu, the sacred site of the Quechua people* and returned to Cusco, more or less intact.

This past summer, Jeff and I hiked somewhere around 500 miles. More than once, we hiked over 20 miles in one day, and then woke up the next day to do it again. I wouldn’t say it was fun and I wouldn’t say it was easy, but it wasn’t killer. The hike to Machu Picchu by way of the classic Inca Trail is about 26 miles long, and it’s done over the course of four days. Sounds not too bad, right?

Ha. Think again. The Inca Trail is hard. This is no stroll in the park, no walk in the woods. This is a long, hard haul at extremely high elevation. You begin at 2,600 meters. (That’s 8,528 feet for those of you who can’t figure out the metric system.) By the first night, you are at 3,100 meters (10,137 feet). That’s twice the elevation of Denver, which many of us Americans consider to be high and hard on the lungs. On the second day, you ascend to 4,200 meters (13,776 feet). You go up a lot. But it’s not just uphill. You also go downhill–hard and fast–and then go back uphill all over again. The ground is rough, much of it paved with uneven stones. Sometimes the only thing on the side of the trail is a steep drop-off. And being the rainy season, creeks spill over the trail, stones become slippery, and rivers rage. The Inca Trail is not for the faint of heart.

But it’s difficulties are balanced by its rewards. On the first day, you pass local people in traditional dress, working the land and living the way they have for hundreds of years.

Every day magnificent scenery surrounds you—sheer mountains that seem to rise straight from the earth, snow-capped peaks, waterfalls, cloud forest jungle—and because it’s the rainy season thousands of orchids, bromelids, and other flowers.

And you don’t have to wait until you get to Machu Picchu to see Incan ruins, as there are many ruins along the way: small sites that served as resting spots, larger sites that astronomers used to predict the best times for planting and harvest, and a variety of other impressive ruins where pilgrims to Machu Picchu stopped five hundred years ago.

All in all, we had a fabulous time. Our group of 12—aside from an unfortunately whiny Canadian couple—was good, our guides were knowledgeable and encouraging, the food was plentiful and pretty tasty, the tents warm, the porters amazing, and the weather surprisingly good for the heart of rainy season. And Machu Picchu, well, it was definitely worth the work.

Check back tomorrow for a day by day break-down of the trip, along with some more photos. And yes, we know that we have not yet posted anything about our first few adventures prior to the Inca Trail. We will take some time and rewind back to that after we enjoy our last few days with Gregory.

*It’s incorrect to refer to the people as Incas. There was only one Inca—the king.

We’ve been traveling for almost three months now. This means that we’ve spent approximately the last 2000 hours together, with one another being our only consistent support in our grand endeavor. And honestly, while that brings us closer and all that, when you do everything together and see everything together and notice everything together and are removed from the pace of everyday life together, you run out of things to talk about. Everything we take in about the world happens at the same time. Our conversations often amount to “hmm, did you see that, that was weird” … “huh, yeah.” Sure, there’s an awful lot of conversation about what to do next, what we just did, what do you want to eat, and so on. But there’s also a lot of comfortable silence these days.

So I think we’re both a little excited to have someone else to talk to. Get filled in on all the weird little things that make the news. Someone to update me on the football world. Theresa’s brother Greg arrives tonight to join us in exploring Lima, Nazca and Cuzco. Since it’s all got to happen in ten days, it will be a flurry of activity and we may not be terribly active here. Instead, we may be too busy talking.