So, with that, I started my crazy ridiculous journey to Machu Picchu – mostly alone – at 5 a.m. on May 11. And here’s my story.
Day 1:
The anticipation of it all, like the night before an exam, or better yet a visit to the dentist for a procedure you really ain’t looking forward to, provided me with an inability to get good (or any) sleep the night before. My thoughts: Did I pack everything I need? I should have trained, why didn’t I train? What if I can’t do this? What if I have to come back down in the middle of a climb? Will I need bandaids? Did I pack bandaids? Did I remember to get my tetanus shots? Bug spray! Oh man, I wish I had trained for this.
The start of the trip was an extremely bumpy mini-van ride that only made me want to start walking. I guess that was a good thing. We walked uphill for about 2 hours until we got to lunch. Nice easy start, but I was already tired. God help me. At lunch, we rested for a while and I started to see awesome views of the Umantay and Salkantay snow-capped mountains. I was excited. The views really did take your breath away (well, whatever breath was left after the hike).
After lunch was the main climb – our climb up to the base of Mt. Salkantay, where we were to spend our first night so we could climb the glacier first thing in the morning. We had switch backs. They were tough. The cold air and hot sun, the sunscreen caked on my skin, the breeze that doesn’t really last all that long, and the risky path ahead of me was all I could grudgingly think about. During this part of the trek, I started getting dizzy. But then I started hearing tunes in my head, which surprisingly, helped pace my steps. I’d focus on the tune in my head and try to march along to it so I didn’t get to focus on how my lungs were screaming for help! I don’t have asthma, but I feel like I now understand the pain of anyone who does. As I was doing this climb, and trying to keep up with those that were definitely in better shape than me (i.e. the guide), I realized that what I was doing was sort of like a metaphor for life: Just focus on the step immediately in front of you, it makes the climb to your destination that much easier when you don’t look up to see how much more you still need to climb. Even though the view around you may be pretty, perhaps the prettiest you’ve ever seen, you may distract yourself if you try to look at it, and you may fall if you lose focus on the steps you are taking. And when you are taking a break from all the climbing, then you can enjoy the view, including a look back in the direction you came from, and an appreciation of how far you’ve come, what you’ve surpassed. People always say, never look back, but perhaps we need to from time to time – only when we’re taking a break from the climb.
The start of the trip was an extremely bumpy mini-van ride that only made me want to start walking. I guess that was a good thing. We walked uphill for about 2 hours until we got to lunch. Nice easy start, but I was already tired. God help me. At lunch, we rested for a while and I started to see awesome views of the Umantay and Salkantay snow-capped mountains. I was excited. The views really did take your breath away (well, whatever breath was left after the hike).
After lunch was the main climb – our climb up to the base of Mt. Salkantay, where we were to spend our first night so we could climb the glacier first thing in the morning. We had switch backs. They were tough. The cold air and hot sun, the sunscreen caked on my skin, the breeze that doesn’t really last all that long, and the risky path ahead of me was all I could grudgingly think about. During this part of the trek, I started getting dizzy. But then I started hearing tunes in my head, which surprisingly, helped pace my steps. I’d focus on the tune in my head and try to march along to it so I didn’t get to focus on how my lungs were screaming for help! I don’t have asthma, but I feel like I now understand the pain of anyone who does. As I was doing this climb, and trying to keep up with those that were definitely in better shape than me (i.e. the guide), I realized that what I was doing was sort of like a metaphor for life: Just focus on the step immediately in front of you, it makes the climb to your destination that much easier when you don’t look up to see how much more you still need to climb. Even though the view around you may be pretty, perhaps the prettiest you’ve ever seen, you may distract yourself if you try to look at it, and you may fall if you lose focus on the steps you are taking. And when you are taking a break from all the climbing, then you can enjoy the view, including a look back in the direction you came from, and an appreciation of how far you’ve come, what you’ve surpassed. People always say, never look back, but perhaps we need to from time to time – only when we’re taking a break from the climb.
At the campsite, at the base of Mt. Salkantay, we rested. And came night time. The glacier shone against the moonlight at night, and you could see miles and miles of stars. But then it was time to sleep, and I was in my tent, alone. It’s freakin’ cold. I have on every freakin’ layer I brought with me and I still can’t fall asleep. I’m in a tent. There are horses sniffing around near me. I’m wondering how long I can hold in my pee so as not to have to get out of my tent and have to add even more layers to my many layers. Wishing I was a man so I could pee standing up and do the whole thing really quickly. People have often commented on my infrequent need to pee but I was thanking my large bladder because, there are only so many times you want to expose your naked butt to this type of cold without worrying about losing vital body parts. I’m starting to think I’d like to be a horse for this part. Horses can climb mountains, if they trip they’ve got an extra leg to balance themselves. I’ve only got 2 legs. If one fails, I fall on the rocks, or worse, go tumbling down the mountain. These are my thoughts as I can’t get to sleep. I felt a cold so unbearable some would wonder what Canada was like. But I had sweat on my clothes, and was at the base of a glacier. I thought over and over again about why i decided to do this. Alone. I was cold. It was 8pm and I was exhausted but I couldn’t fall asleep. I felt lonely, exhausted, too exhausted to think even. I tried to think of tunes in my head that would help distract me from the cold, the way tunes helped distract me while climbing the switchback. I finally remembered that I had a bottle of warm water which I coddled like a lover who had just returned from war, and went to sleep. It was a disturbed sleep until the early hours of the morning.
Day 2:I was woken up at 6 am with a cup of hot coca tea, which was lovely. When I got out of my tent, I saw a layer of frost that reassured me that I wasn’t crazy for shivering so much the night before. a quick breakfast we started our climb to the Salkantay pass – the climb was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and the freezing cold air only worked to constrict my lungs so that I felt like they were on fire with every step and breath. No metaphors for life here, I was using every bit of energy I had to concentrate on moving , the whole time hearing this in my head: “why did I decide to do this again?” Never again. Never again. When I finally got to the pass I heard a faint “was that it?” I think I had convinced myself we were doing this for the next 4 hours in order to get through it. Luckily, after the pass there is only downhill for a little while. I welcomed downhill. Bend your knees and it’s not so bad. After about just an hour of downhill though, my knees started throbbing. And my legs were wobbly. Again thinking I wish I had 4 legs like a horse. Thank god for my third leg (trekking stick) though. I guess I was at a point of no return and I had to continue to do the 4 hours of downhill we had left. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming. While the views of the valley and rivers were amazing, the terrain going downhill was starting to get steeper, rockier and muddier. Views – mountains, white rivers, streams, waterfalls, jungle (sounds, sights and smells), misty mountains, valley of the jungle. Terrain - rocks, slush, streams, slush, gravel, sand. Why are we going so fast???? “Horses up ahead!” was the frequent chant of the guide, and we had to flatten ourselves against the mountain side, so as to avoid being kicked by a scared horse off the side of the mountain. We crossed some beautiful streams and rivers that I could have spent more time beside but we didn’t stop. We crossed these beautiful streams and rivers on some very wobbly and hardly there bridges though. After 2 days of mountain trekking, every bridge, however solid (as solid can be here), tested my balance and agility. Almost 8 hours of trekking now, and my knees were screaming in pain. Finally, we reached our campsite. Beautiful scenery but atrocious toilet (and I’m not expecting much - a hole in the ground would have been a dream instead). I willed my body to hold back. Two more days of this? I can hardly move. Why, again? On the last night, we get a hostel. On the last night, we get a hostel.
Waking up. So much pain. My legs felt like lead. I had to use my arms to lift my legs, and getting out of the tent I fell over. At least the night before was less cold – a welcomed relief. I slept pretty soundly except for a wake up call at 3:00a.m by a rooster that wasn’t quite on its mark. And then again at 4a.m. And again at 5a.m. And then more roosters joined in so that by the time I was woken up by coca/munia tea at 6a.m. the roosters were emitting a harmonized wake up call every 5 minutes. Getting up was a task. Every muscle in my body hurt – personal training sessions could be put to shame. This kind of pain was just unbelievable. And the realization that we still had 2 more days of hiking ahead of us made me almost faint. After breakfast we started our hike through the rainforest once again; leaving behind the pigs, dogs, chicken, the free-running horses and most importantly and with no regret, one of the worst toilet situations ever.
Our hike today was severely tiring, not because the hike was all that tough compared to what we had just done the last 2 days, but because my legs felt like they were made of lead (except when they had to step on a precariously positioned rock, then they felt like jello), my back hurt, my arms ached. I wobbled on almost every downhill step I had to take, and if it hadn’t been for my trekking stick, I would definitely have mis-stepped and fallen into the river running several hundred meters below. We did walk by passionfruit and avocado trees, even ate a Peruvian passionfruit (Maracuya) whose juice I had already tried and liked, but the fruit itself was sort of like mucus-encrusted sweet seeds. We crossed many precarious bridges, several streams of water (balancing and hopping from one rock to another). One of these instances led to my wobbly leg giving away and my foot dropped right into the muddy stream. I dragged my soaking foot out of the water and continued on as if nothing was amiss. Because, by this point, that right foot had stepped in every variety of slush and dung, that a little water and wet socks wasn’t going to hurt. On that note, horses, I discovered, like placing their dung at the place between rocks that would be most intuitive place for you to step.
We hiked at the sides of many mountains and finally made it to old Santa Teresa town, where we could see some of the damage that land slides had caused. In the distance I saw our guide make a turn into our lunch stop – La Playa – where we joined other hikers for our lunch. After lunch we took a rickety mini-van through a dirt path only meant for pedestrians to Santa Teresa, where we were to camp for the night. The dirt path, which only had width for one car to pass, and had a sheer drop to a river, apparently took 2-way traffic. Every time another car, truck, van, combi or construction vehicle approached us head on, we had to back up until there was an inch more on the mountain side so that one vehicle could wait at a 45 degree angle while the other passed. We did this little dance of forward and backward for about 45 minutes before we got to our campsite. Being now in a small village, this campsite was like a campsite on ecstacy! A toilet, flushable. Electricity. A “bar” with a fridge stocked with cold everything. Downside – a stuffy hot tent, and billions of mosquitoes.
There was still one more day of trekking and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it, even though I had made it this far. My body feels like it fell off a truck and then got stomped on by a herd of horses. I popped in some advil and rested. One more day. Muscles please last. Will power, take over.
Day 4:
The final day. Well, of hiking. I suppose Machu Picchu on Day 5 is really the final day. Sleep the night before was deep, even though the tent was hot, stuffy and I woke to mosquitoes chomping on my neck vampire style. Today’s hike was supposed to be the easiest, albeit in the sun the entire time. Bus to this one stop. A box over the river to the other side and then up a road and along railroad tracks all the way to Aguas Calientes (Machu Picchu town). Wait a second, what was that about a box over the river? Oh yeah, minor detour we had to take because the floods and the rain destroyed the road and bridge. So, we had to get inside a place, more than a box, with loose baseboards and just 2 rusty metal bars on either side to hold on to. I watched 7 Peruvian men take that transport to the other side of the river standing up, while the “box” gently swung from side to side. Thank god I got to sit in the box, comfortably holding on for dear life as we hung suspended over the river while a man on the other side slowly reeled us in. After that the rest of the day was a peice of cake. Just a whole lot of walking in the heat, surrounded by bugs, using extremely sore muscles. Walking on the road was not so fun. Walking by the broken railroad tracks (actually, we were walking on them) was interesting because I got to see lodges, homes and just fields and fields of baby banana trees along the way. My impetus for keepin’ on walking was the thought of a hotel and a warm shower, which I got, as soon as I arrived at La Pequena Casita in Aguas Calientes, a nicer hostal than I was expecting. That night at dinner, I got a beer and let out the biggest sigh imaginable. It was done. Now for Machu Picchu. Thank god we were taking the bus up there.
Our hike today was severely tiring, not because the hike was all that tough compared to what we had just done the last 2 days, but because my legs felt like they were made of lead (except when they had to step on a precariously positioned rock, then they felt like jello), my back hurt, my arms ached. I wobbled on almost every downhill step I had to take, and if it hadn’t been for my trekking stick, I would definitely have mis-stepped and fallen into the river running several hundred meters below. We did walk by passionfruit and avocado trees, even ate a Peruvian passionfruit (Maracuya) whose juice I had already tried and liked, but the fruit itself was sort of like mucus-encrusted sweet seeds. We crossed many precarious bridges, several streams of water (balancing and hopping from one rock to another). One of these instances led to my wobbly leg giving away and my foot dropped right into the muddy stream. I dragged my soaking foot out of the water and continued on as if nothing was amiss. Because, by this point, that right foot had stepped in every variety of slush and dung, that a little water and wet socks wasn’t going to hurt. On that note, horses, I discovered, like placing their dung at the place between rocks that would be most intuitive place for you to step.
We hiked at the sides of many mountains and finally made it to old Santa Teresa town, where we could see some of the damage that land slides had caused. In the distance I saw our guide make a turn into our lunch stop – La Playa – where we joined other hikers for our lunch. After lunch we took a rickety mini-van through a dirt path only meant for pedestrians to Santa Teresa, where we were to camp for the night. The dirt path, which only had width for one car to pass, and had a sheer drop to a river, apparently took 2-way traffic. Every time another car, truck, van, combi or construction vehicle approached us head on, we had to back up until there was an inch more on the mountain side so that one vehicle could wait at a 45 degree angle while the other passed. We did this little dance of forward and backward for about 45 minutes before we got to our campsite. Being now in a small village, this campsite was like a campsite on ecstacy! A toilet, flushable. Electricity. A “bar” with a fridge stocked with cold everything. Downside – a stuffy hot tent, and billions of mosquitoes.
There was still one more day of trekking and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it, even though I had made it this far. My body feels like it fell off a truck and then got stomped on by a herd of horses. I popped in some advil and rested. One more day. Muscles please last. Will power, take over.
Day 4:
The final day. Well, of hiking. I suppose Machu Picchu on Day 5 is really the final day. Sleep the night before was deep, even though the tent was hot, stuffy and I woke to mosquitoes chomping on my neck vampire style. Today’s hike was supposed to be the easiest, albeit in the sun the entire time. Bus to this one stop. A box over the river to the other side and then up a road and along railroad tracks all the way to Aguas Calientes (Machu Picchu town). Wait a second, what was that about a box over the river? Oh yeah, minor detour we had to take because the floods and the rain destroyed the road and bridge. So, we had to get inside a place, more than a box, with loose baseboards and just 2 rusty metal bars on either side to hold on to. I watched 7 Peruvian men take that transport to the other side of the river standing up, while the “box” gently swung from side to side. Thank god I got to sit in the box, comfortably holding on for dear life as we hung suspended over the river while a man on the other side slowly reeled us in. After that the rest of the day was a peice of cake. Just a whole lot of walking in the heat, surrounded by bugs, using extremely sore muscles. Walking on the road was not so fun. Walking by the broken railroad tracks (actually, we were walking on them) was interesting because I got to see lodges, homes and just fields and fields of baby banana trees along the way. My impetus for keepin’ on walking was the thought of a hotel and a warm shower, which I got, as soon as I arrived at La Pequena Casita in Aguas Calientes, a nicer hostal than I was expecting. That night at dinner, I got a beer and let out the biggest sigh imaginable. It was done. Now for Machu Picchu. Thank god we were taking the bus up there.
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