Planes, Trains & Automobiles

We saw our first set of ruins, a set of restored green terraces (marred by giant hydroelectric towers and wires) before we climbed up a small peak for a photo opportunity and continued on into the valley away from the river. Our guide Freddy was fanatical about being a “Family” and explaining everything to us and his enthusiasm was great. My one complaint about this day was that we stopped excessively. After hiking for an hour, stopping for 30 minutes and letting your body cool down and stiffen up is terrible.

We also got our first taste of Andean peaks. As we turned away from the river and headed up the valley, we started to see the snow-capped peaks that form the backbone of Peru and South America. They are incredibly steep and rugged and rise straight up out of the valley floor. Even at this relatively low altitude there isn’t much shrubbery away from the river.

Finally, we were introduced to our food. Not the dreary camp food we were expecting but stuffed avocado as an appetizer followed up by soups and meats and everything was delicious. This was just like the dive boats we had been on: activity, eat, sleep, repeat. Ok, not so much sleep.

Brian decided to take off without me after the first 2 hour rest stop. This did not sit very well with me because I didn’t even want to do this hike in the first place. I was only doing it because Brian wanted to. And now that I was forced to do it alone, every step was even more miserable than the last. The altitude made it hard to breath and I started counting how many steps I could take before I had to sit and rest, 50, pretty pathetic. I put on my iPod hoping that would motivate me up a hill, and it did help a little. Two of the songs I randomly listened summed up my hike that day, “I Wish I Was Dead” by the Shout Out Louds and the chorus to Thom York’s “Black Swan” which went “This is f*cked up, f*cked up.” The part that really sucked was that I could see Dead Woman’s Pass at the very top as I walked up the mountain, and I knew Brian was already there. I wanted to get to the top and push him over the edge.

When I finally arrived at the top, hours behind Brian, I made it pretty clear that I wasn’t happy. Unfortunately, making it to the top wasn’t the end of the day, we still had to walk down 1,000 steps and 2,200 feet in altitude to our camp. This was just as difficult as hiking up the mountain and I fell a couple of times before arriving at camp a few hours later, the last one out of 16 people, 3 of which were over the age of 60. It was a completely demoralizing day and if quitting and turning back would have been easier than going forward, I would have done it in a heartbeat. I swore to Brian that I would never, ever hike again.

The campsite and camp gear was solid and the porters had everything set up for us when we arrived and they broke it all down for us after we left. Then, they proceed to pack 25kg (~56lbs) up the trail faster than we can walk it with our 5kg packs. Weak!

After discovering that everyone else hired an extra third of a porter to carry their gear, we decided to hire a local to ensure we wouldn’t die trying to summit. Our packs lost about 8lbs each which was a great feeling when we first started. Jennifer and I each donned our iPods for rally music and I set out at a comfortable, steady pace and worked my way up the mountain arriving to our breakpoint just behind James and Kormack who were having some kind of suicidal race up the hill. We sat down and enjoyed the view while the rest of the group caught up. It was when Jennifer walked up and informed me that she was never hiking again that I knew the rest of day 2 was probably going to be ugly. This was not even half-way.

The break was picturesque with nearby grazing alpacas and llamas. The air was crispy clear and the views of the valley were stunning. It was amazing to see how far we had already come up (300m / ~1000ft) and it felt great. Unfortunately we stopped for almost an hour so we were all starting off cold again when we set out for the top.

I am writing this passage without having read what Jennifer has written so I am not recounting anything other than my experience. The rest of the climb was evil. For the next couple of hours, I was pouring out sweat as I put one foot in front of the other with my iPod on blast, climbing stone stair after stone stair after stone stair. Every time I came around a corner that looked like it was close to the top, I was met with another vast expanse of upwardly winding Incan trail that disappeared still further away.

Before we set out, Freddy taught us how to chew on coca leaves to help with the altitude. You start with a little ash, roll up the leaves and then chew on them until your tongue goes numb and you spit it out. If you didn’t feel stronger you would never try it because it tastes like lawn clippings. Gross! I’d much rather have four Red Bulls but at 6:30am, that’s even a little too much for me.

In looking through my pictures, I can see I didn’t take many shots because there was only one thing to do: Step forward. Step forward. Step forward. It sucked, but when I reached the 4215m summit and James and Kormack (who, once again, had raced to the top) clapped for me, it was exhilarating and completely worth the physical exhaustion. Top of the world!

There was an icy breeze on the ridge so I quickly put on my fleece and sat with the guys while the rest of the group arrived. We cheered on everyone for their monumental effort. Mary-Anne and Carol (both over 60), who have climbed Kilimanjaro, said this ascent was harder due to its steep pitch but we all made it, took a group photo and made a small offering of local Pisco to Pachu Mama (the Earth Mother who has been giving us good weather).

When Jennifer reached the peak we clapped for her but I saw she was having none of it. She explained to me that she felt like I had abandoned her to suffer through the climb alone and although my intent was to just go at a pace that worked for me (I prefer to go slow and steady instead of stopping frequently), I saw her point and we agreed that we would hike the rest of the trail together at whatever pace we needed to walk. I was hoping this would be like the Routeburn where much on-trek complaining was followed by much post-trek celebrating.

From the summit it was about 600m of descent down many big stairs to our campsite for the night and back under the bushline. Along the way we saw several types of orchids and the mysterious mountain mist came and went as it pleased. Jennifer and I attacked it together pulling up the rear of the group and came into camp around 5pm just in time for hot tea. I don’t really like tea but I’ve been drinking about 6 cups per day plus several liters of water per day to account for the perspiration. And to wash the nasty taste of coca leaves out of my mouth.

No, the real difficulty of this day wasn’t in the climb but in the descent. After we reached our lunch stop (wonton soup and grilled Alpaca, by the way), we began a series of some 2000 stone steps to our final campsite. There’s really nothing to convey the pain our knees felt during those 2 and a half hours. Look at some of these pictures and see how bloody steep are these stairs! And the physical effort is just half the picture; the mental focus required to ensure you don’t miss a step and fall is just as exhausting. We pulled into camp last again but still in time for hot tea (and a cold Cusquena beer from the on-site vendor)!

Freddy and Cesar took us into the adjacent site of Winay Wayna to clean our chakras in the ceremonial fountains before our arrival to Machu Picchu. Winya Wayna was only discovered about 15 years ago. It seems impossible but there are still many undiscovered Incan ruins overgrown with jungle.

We finally reached Machu Picchu, and of course it was gorgeous. But I was so exhausted from the last 4 days, that I couldn’t properly enjoy it. Our guide gave a 2 hour tour and the whole time I was dreaming about a shower and a bed. Brian decided to hike up the small mountain behind the ruins and it doesn’t take a genius to know there was absolutely no way I would even consider doing it. After walking around the ruins one last time, I hopped on the bus and headed down the mountain, happy to be finished and wishing I had taken the train.

Unfortunately, Jennifer and I started off rocky this morning. Hiking in the dark at 5am with flashlights was testing her patience. Although we started towards the front of the group, we slid backwards while people pushed on to see sunrise over Machu Picchu.

I tried to help by taking her pack but this just precipitated an argument and an order to leave her behind. Quite the opposite of what we had agreed to previously, we stuck it out together and made it to the Sun Gate last, but still with plenty of time to see first light over the ruins.

It’s really an incredible thing to have hiked some 28 miles over the Andean mountains to find yourself staring into deserted ancient ruins. At 7 in the morning, there’s not a soul wandering around the site and among the 50 or so hikers at the gate, there is a real sense of elation and accomplishment. There’s no other way to account for the busy chatter and bright eyes at that time of the morning.

Freddy took us into the ruins for some explanations and a group photo from near the guard tower. The night previous we had been discussing what initially made us want to visit Machu Picchu and I couldn’t recall what first interested me. It was from this vantage point that I remembered: National Geographic. The cover of National Geographic many years ago was a picture of Machu Picchu from this exact point and as I looked out over the spring-green terraces and cold grey stones, that picture sprang to mind. The seed that photograph had planted had finally matured and here I was, dirty and grimy, stinking to hell and standing at dawn among an ancient Incan city in the Andean highlands of Peru. Nice!!!

After our tour, most people headed down to Aguas Calientes for beers and leg resting. I decided to scale the 300m tall peak of Winay Picchu which overlooks the city of Machu Picchu. I headed to climb to the top alone, leave my rock offering for Pachu Mama and come back in a scant 74 minutes. The views of Machu Picchu and the surrounding valley are impressive.

Coming in from the Inca trail means you don’t see the “commercialized” entry way at first. Where the “lazy people” ride a bus up the hill and go through the visitor center and ticket office, we hiked in the same way the Incans did with just a few dozen other people wandering around the site. Doing the hike on the shoulder season turned out to be a stroke of genius… it wasn’t until I left the site around 12:30pm (after the tourist trains have arrived from Cusco) that it felt crowded. Even still, as I wandered out I found myself alone in the ruins most of the time.

After the exit, a bus ride into Aguas Calientes and a reunion pizza lunch (and more than one cerveza) with our group, we all boarded the backpacker train to Cusco for rest, rest and more rest! Except for James, who talked for the entire train ride.

Although Jennifer feels terrible for being last to camp, I am so proud of her for sticking it out and completing what most people will never even attempt. It’s not a race, it’s a journey! I hope that she’ll come to appreciate her own great accomplishments.

It’s unnatural for me to consider doing something without Jennifer but we need to be more assertive about doing things separately. Time spent together under these kinds of conditions doesn’t benefit either of us or our relationship.