Dash for Cabanaconde

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Edison has instructed me to be in the Hotel Asturias lobby promptly lobby at 9:45. Like some kid actually excited about summer camp or someone strangely curious about what it would feel like to have a toe amputed without anesthesia, or to not be able to breath in an amount of air sufficient to keep the body comfortably upright, I'm up early packed and ready for this trek in the Andean highlands. The tour operator has done a good job hooking me in. "The only difficulty is the height." This is like saying of a marathon run, the only difficulty is the distance. Difficulty, Schmifficulty ...

A few weeks earlier, I Western Union'd the full sum of the exploit, and anticipate the best. By the time I arrive in Arequipa, I've got most of the items described as necessary for the trek, except a backpack. The tour coordinator and I chat by phone at one point when I was in the U.S. and I'm assured that a backpack can be rented or of course purchased in Peru. I have decided that the items of my initial packing list will fit in a carry on size softcase. I've also already told Edison tha my primary concern is water intake. He assures me that between places to buy bottled water, we get water from mountain steams along the route and use purfication tablets.

So my concern is addressed, and here I am ready in the hotel lobby. It's 10 a.m. and our bus for the six hour trip to Cabanaconde is scheduled to depart at 11 a.m. Cabanaconde is a village on the upper (northern) end of Colca Canyon some 120 miles north of Arequipa. This village is a little less traveled than Chivay or the Cruz del Condor area, but any gringo wanting to hike the majestic Colca, must set foot in Cabanaconde, and they must have something to eat at the Valle de Fuego. At some points over 10,000 feet deep, the Colca canyon is deeper than the Grand Canyon by far, but the angle of the walls is much less acute than the Grand Canyon, and so it feels as if this is a very large valley rather than a canyon. But in some places, as I will find out, the canyon harsh and imposing.

Any impatience ceases as Edison arrives at 10:20. I figure that if we miss the 11 a.m. the bus, we will take another. From the hotel I've seen the traffic situation on the already busy calles Ugarte and Santa Cantalina. The taxis are bumper to bumper and the horns are chattering. Edison has left the cab and ran to the hotel. He explains that his grea and all the provisions we will need are in a cab stuck in traffic. I explain that I've still got a backpack to buy. His plan relies on the swiftness of cabs. First we find the cab with our trek provisions and Edison's friend.

We add my gear, now stuffed in a rubbish bag, to the load the cab is taking. Edison's friend will see that the cab will procede to the bus station. So we are free to walk rapidly over to the outfitter shop to buy that backpack we priced Saturday, and then we hail another cab for the bus station. Backpack or not, my gear is headed for the bus station. I buy medium-sized rucksack that has side and internal compartments. We hail a cab and arrive at the bus station, the “Terminal terrestre,” on the outskirts of Arequipa just before 11 a.m., reunited with our gear as protected by one Edison's college girlfriends.

The Cabanaconde bus operated by the Andalucia Company is full. In seats 17 and 18 with our gear stowed in the bus cargo bay and the upper racks, we depart over paved roads. In an hour as the road ascends to the north, the pavement gives way to gravel, then to dirt and stone. Meanwhile, a young man at the front of the bus begins to speak earnestly and confidently regarding some topic, which I soon understand is a product of concentrated Maca (Lepidium meyenii) powder, a potato-like tuber vegetable that along with being highly nutritional, is said to help the prostate and increase libido and energy. Maca has long been a popular food, and Inca warriors, it's said ate Maca before battle.

He continues his pitch politely along the line of maca for health and familial happiness until we reach Patahuasi. On comes a young woman selling soft tamales. Edison buys one, indicating a too light breakfast.

The route, the only one, provides a view of Ampato, the a mountain of some 20,800 ft. some 10 miles away as the bus labors up a pass of over 15,000 ft. Then Edison points out the snow peak of Mt. Mismi, some 25 miles distant. The snowmelt from here becomes the official headwaters of the Amazon, although the map I have does not show this. We pass hear

After 4 hours we descend into the village of Chivay, capital of the district of Caylloma. We stop long enough for a snack and the restroom. Meanwhile, 20 more people get in the bus, and our reserved seats are occupied. The aisle is peopled to the point that I don't see a path but we press through to our seats anyway, and Edison matter of factly evicts the squatters. Among the 20 who've got on is one of Edison's 5 sisters, and she is on her way to Cabanaconde to see friends.

Cabanaconde. This is a quiter place than Chivay, somewhat less visited, and the place to begin much of the trekking in the Colca Canyon area. We have bypassed Cruz del Condor, the hot baths, and any close up views of Condors. The Hotel Majestic Colca has our rooms, and Edison explains that dinner is at 7 p.m. I take that time to repack the hastily packed rucksack and shower. The water is hot. My 2nd floor room looks out into a small enclosure where I hear then see a carping donkey, and the cluck of chickens with their own Foghorn Leghorn, whom I heard later, at 2 a.m.

The sunsets at 5:30 in Cabanaconde, nestled in the Calco canyon at just under 12,000 feet. By 7 p.m. the restaurant Valled de Fuego is dark. We are the only dinner guests on this Monday evening, and Eduard, whom I take to be one of the owners, lights one of the two fireplaces, our only source of light other than two candles on the bar and candles on our table. They provide warmth and light. We have the choice of chicken or alpaca, and I'll try the alpaca. Here it is tough, and has the taste of venison. Seems as though this meat would be tough anywhere if indeed the alpaca was used for wool a long while before it offered it's meat. The soup--always soup as a starter--has chunks of carrot and potato, vegetables, and a chicken base. It tastes of parsley and coriander and something like sage. The alpaca comes with lentils and peas seasoned mainly with salt and well cooked. We have coca tea, as Edison explains that in his view coca tea is overrated for altitude adjustment. He says that the chachacoma bush yields an equally homeopathic tea, and we'll find some along the route in two days.

Edison I learn has five sisters and three brothers, and his siblings range from 40 to 16, and he's at 32 years. He's single but has two children, a boy 10 and a girl 6. They are with a "baby sitter." He claims an appreciation for freedom as his reason for being single. He's been a school teacher and has worked in public administration. He's know enrolled in a law program at the public university of Arequipa. Guiding is a passion, but a hobby that pays a few bills. At dinner, we've gone over the difference between conocer and sabir, the two Spanish to know verbs. He says that Qechua also has two distinct verbs for knowing.

I learn that he only does the Andagua trek we are going on two or at most four times a year, due to the difficulty, though I wonder if it is the difficulty for him or the difficulty related to guiding people through and over the terrain. So far, Edison has shown that he has no speed but swift.

I'm finding that with no other distractions or demands, there is little reason or need to stay up much beyond 9 p.m.. Out on the trek, 9 a.m. becomes 8:30. The rooster at 2 a.m. takes care of any concern over too much sleep. I figure that interrupted sleep must have been, and is, more the norm in less developed nations. I chose not to use the ear plugs tonight. Don't want to miss the 6 a.m. alarm. We've made to Cabanaconde. I seem ready for whatever the trip will bring.

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Photos

Mt. Mismi
In the Distance

Approaching Chivay
Colca Canyon

Cabanconde
The Valle Del Fuego (Maison des Francais)