Day 1 - Our group of 16 travellers plus 2 guides ride the bus from Cusco to a breakfast stop in Ollytaytambo. While I want to sleep on the bus ride, I can't. The scenery of the mountains in the early morning light is too breathtaking. The sky is so blue and the mountains are indescribable. It won't be the first time I think, "My camera and my words will never capture this view." Plus, I'm nervous about what to expect from the trail, myself, and my guides.
In Ollytaytambo, we turistas can buy wooden walking sticks, overpriced snacks, and Agua de Florida for the trail. Allegedly, Agua de Florida is "magic water" containing eucalyptus and some other methol-like herbage that when inhaled, opens up your lungs, easing breathing in the thin mountain air. Really, the stuff smells like Grandpa's aftershave and, like the cocoa leaves, I can't vouch for the validity of the guides' claims. After breakfast, we continue onto KM82 (2380 meters above sea level), where we check in to the trail and start hiking.
Our hiking is stalled by the Australians efforts to iron out a small, yet annoying, paperwork snafu with the trail authorities. Every hiker, porter, and guide MUST be permitted on the Inca Trail to limit the number of trekkers each year. Once they get through, though, we are on our way...up, and up, and UP. The rocky trail and the stairs start now. I will curse them both by the end of it. Larry and Tami would begin to feel the burn of altitude sickness, as well.
By the end of Day 1, we are sweaty, huffing, puffing, tired, and positive that we will hire porters to carry our packs on Day 2, which is listed as "Challenge" in the SAS Travel brochure. Fortunately, the amazing porters provided by SAS Travel carry the food, our sleeping tents, the dining and kitchen tents, and all other necessary supplies on their backs. They make light work of the rocky, steep terrain and always have camp set up before we weary Gringos arrive for lunch or the night. I feel like a schlep in comparison to these wiry men that traverse these mountains with such seeming ease and quickness. Most of them, when not working the trail, are farmers in these mountains. Many porters die by falling off the edge of the rocky trail each year. When the porters are introduced, many have between 2 and 4 children. The youngest among them is 20, and the oldest is 60! We learn the marital status of each one, as that seems to be an important statistic in this country - I've had to fill out my status on every hostel registration card so far. Single and PROUD, Peru!
Day 2 - Uh, change the SAS Travel word "Challenge" to "Effing Bitch of a Time." This was by far, the hardest day, even without our packs. Larry, Tami, and I each paid 80 soles (approx. US$20-30) for a porter to carry our packs for the day. I am awed and annoyed by the veteran trekkers in our group that suck it up and carry their own packs, while still maintaining the lead. Larry, Tami, and I continue our trend of coming in last at every rest stop.
Never flat, the day was either steeply headed up or steeply headed down as we made our way through two passes. The first was Dead Woman's Pass, at a maximum height of 4200 meters. As we rested at the top of the pass, I huffed and puffed (again). Larry and Tami fought off nausea, headaches, and stinging lungs. Yes, Altitude, we feel you, we know you, now leave us alone!!! I barely took photos at the time, and I think these are photos of the top:
If you look closely at the photo above, you can see the trail sloping away in the bottom third of the photo, and heading down the mountain towards the valley half-way down the left side of the photo. The trail is one small tiny sliver, snaking its way through the Andes and none of my photos capture the steepness of it...
This photo is the other side of Dead Woman's Pass - in the direction we continued to trek - toward Machu Picchu. We would be heading straight down - basically dropping out of the bottom of the photo frame...If I thought going up sucked, going down a mountain just might blow even bigger llama chunks. Stairs, stairs, and more effing stairs. When I think about them, I get mad. I spent so much time looking down and holding my balance that I missed so much of the beautiful scenery. My toes are throttled into the front of my shoes with each step, which I noticed at the end of Day 1 were separating from the rubber soles (check out the right shoe near the toe):
By the time I reached the lunch stop, I was at the end of my rope and ready to cry. I was exhausted and barely hungry. I ate what I could, but I felt spent and wondered how I would make it up through another pass. I was one grumpy trekker, but I was still upright. Kathy (a fellow St. Pete resident that happened to be in our group!), Larry, and Tami were all laid out on a tarp and they all skipped lunch. Altitude, seriously, leave us alone!! One person that kept the humor in the situation was Simon, the gregarious Australian. He was so excited that Larry was skipping out on lunch because that meant more chocolate pudding for him for dessert!!
I have to say Simon and every one of the other trekkers in our group made this arduous task enjoyable and bearable. Never once did I feel like we stragglers were holding up the group. Everyone's buoyant and adventurous spirit kept us all laughing and plugging along, every small step of the way up and down the trail. Check out some of our fellow travelers tales here and here.
After lunch, we headed down for a bit, then....right. back. UP. Uuuuuuggggghhh!!! Are you KIDDING me?!?!? This SUCKS!! And I PAID for this!!! HA!!! By the time we made it through Runkuraqay Pass (approx. 3900 meters), and down, down, down to camp, we were spent. We skipped the tour of the Runkuraqay Inca remains. Hilbert (our lead guide) could tell us another day. Tami crashed in our tent as soon as she arrived at camp and never woke up. She fell asleep with her tea in her hand and barely moved when I later hit the sack. Larry skipped another meal, leaving Simon to inhale the extras while having yet ANOTHER conversation about cricket with the Brits. And, as a reward for all our hard work that day, the squat toilets at this camp were miraculously free of any excrement outside the porcelain bowl in the ground. Unfortunately, they were not free of the disgusting stench. Plus, you wondered whether that was really mud on the floors....
Day 3 - We all groaned awake at 5:15 AM, but finally noticed the incredible view from camp.
Well, the hike is easier than Day 2, but not by much. Fortunately, the views are amazing:
I have my pack back and the 2 hours of stairs leading down to the night's camp made me tear up as my right knee could no longer support my weight on its own. I was depending on my left leg to lower me down each step of the way. I gasped each time my right knee tweaked or my blisters (that's right, my huge effing blisters on both heels) rubbed the wrong way in my shitty ass shoes. Agony made me hate my shoes, my feet, my body, the mountain, and the stupid idiots that built this damn trail. I thought of Tami and Larry, too, that suffered even greater bodily strains, as the altitude sucked the life out of them. Tami, too, had her right knee Ace bandaged the day before and was experiencing the pain of each step. Both of us wanted to cry, but too many people were around. (We aren't SISSIES!!)
We reached Winaywayna (2700 meters) for lunch and I was so flippin' grumpy. Before lunch, we would head over the Inca remains, just a short walk from the base camp lodge. This was our last camp before seeing Machu Picchu the following day. The walk to the remains made my body scream and then, the drizzle started as we toured the remains with our second guide, Washington.
Some folks went further down the stairs than I did, but I kept thinking about the climb back up the stairs. As expected, the walk back to camp from the remains was uncomfortable. I was looking forward to lunch, flip flops, and to the hot showers offered at the lodge for 5 soles. 8 minutes of warmth and cleanliness!! Larry, after a brief reprieve from the symptoms of altitude, again felt nauseous. Simon was slightly deflated come extra servings of dessert, which happened to be his least favorite dish: Jell-O. HA!! I LOVE Jell-O and there is ALWAYS room for it.... After showers, Tami and I relaxed in our tents as the afternoon drizzle continued. People napped and read. What a wonderful break from the demanding trail!! What a wonderful rest before our 3:45 AM wake up call the next day...
Day 4 - RISE and SHINE, trekkers!! My first words: "F**K Machu Picchu." (Sorry, Mom) Seriously, my blisters didn't want to squeeze into my shoes. My body didn't want to eek out of my warm cocoon and my eyes didn't want to peer through the dark pre-dawn air. After a quick breakfast, an huge mass of hikers went to hurry up and wait on the trail. We had another checkpoint to go through, before hiking to the Sun Gate, where we would get our first glimpse of one of the 7 Wonders of the World. One by one, the headlamps clicked off in the darkness as the different tour groups waited to start down the trail. I don't know what time we passed through the checkpoint, but I had my headlamp on, even while the morning broke over the mountain peaks. The trail was much more even, and much less severe than the previous two days, but there were still some really doozy points: the Gringo Killer (steep steps that seemed like climbing a ladder) and the steps leading down to Machu Picchu. It was not helpful that some especially rude and fast hikers nearly plowed us slowpokes off the trail, without saying excuse me - in any language. Again, it was so hard to see the beauty of the trail when I was focused on each step and my body was tired, tight, and sore. Regardless of how my body felt, I hiked all this way (49 KM; approx. 25 miles) and I was going to see all of Machu Picchu....
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