17th October

It was about 1.00 am when I woke up and decided that I really needed to go and water the plants if I was ever going to get back to sleep. This wasn’t easy though, our “rustic bungalow” had no electricity, and locating my torch in the dark wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but I managed to find it in the end. So there I go, outside to a quiet corner to go about my business, when I hear serious rustling in the bushes next to me. Very disconcerting at that time of night with a crappy torch I can tell you, very Blair Witch Project. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I reckon it was probably a mule from the hostel next door and calmed myself down a bit. I managed to get going with the job in hand and all was well with the world as I looked up into the sky.

The sight that greeted me was simply astounding. Looking up, with an atmosphere much, much clearer here than back in the UK, the sky was just crammed full of stars. So, so many stars shining down on me, it was absolutely awe inspiring. It was a sky so alien to me that I could hardly believe that I was still standing on planet earth. Here I am, in the world’s deepest canyon, in the dead of night, going about my business, just looking straight up in awe. It’s a moment I will never forget.

Gathered together at 5.00 am at the start point for the walk back up the canyon, there was an air of tension as we readied ourselves for the pain ahead. Quite why we all decided to gather outside of the very public toilets I don’t know. Anyone squatting inside must have been feeling very wary at that point, even more than usual.

And then we started. How ironic I thought, that somehow I was the one who ended up leading this band of trekkers up this switchback hell. Me of all people, quite possibly the world’s slowest trekker, at the head of this trail of these quite possibly insane individuals.

That didn’t last for long of course. One by one, they overtook me as I stopped at different corners to regain my breath and let my heart and legs cool down before heading up again. I wasn’t going to rush this one, this had to be done slow and steady if I was to make it up there at all. Going fast just wasn’t an option for me. I didn’t mind being overtaken, in fact I was quite glad as it took some of the pressure away and let me go at my own pace. Jess too was soon just a speck in the distance; she had her own agenda and wanted to be amongst the first to reach the top.

Then the mules appeared, with my “comparable competition” aboard. I can’t say that I wasn’t disheartened at this sight, because I very much was. Suddenly, my chances of success, in my mind, were now drastically reduced. If these guys thought that they couldn’t manage it on their own, what made me think I was any different? Stupidity? Or a real chance of success?

After coming to terms with the fact that I was now the oldest person here actually making this attempt using my own two legs, it became a matter of pride to get to the top without animal assistance. My chances might have been reduced at this point, but I was going to try my very best to get there, even if it killed me. I had made my decision the day before, and now I had to stick to it. I was offered a spare mule too as the last train passed, but my die had been cast and I politely refused (through gritted teeth).

So on I went, little by little, each leg of the switchback taking its toll on my body. By this time I was right at the back of the field, but it didn’t matter, I can’t compete with twenty somethings, I just needed to finish, that was my only goal. Halfway up though, I had serious doubts as to whether I could actually achieve that goal. My legs were in bits, my heart kept beating too fast, I had to keep stopping to let everything cool down before continuing on to the next corner. By the time I had reached the 700 metre mark I was just about ready to give up.

My body was screaming at me, the pain of every upward step building upon the last. I was quite literally dragging myself up and out of this canyon. I just didn’t know where I was going to find the energy to get to the finish from, I had already used all that I had. Worse still, I had now run out of water too as the sun started to beat down upon me. My chances were now very slim. It was at that point that I just cut off.

If I thought about just how hard it was, and how hard the remaining 400 metres were, then I would have just given up right there and then. I had nothing left to give. Mental shutdown occurred, and blind willpower kicked in. I had to ignore everything that my body was screaming at me and substitute it with mental overrides at each and every step.

The next 400 metres have got to be, by the widest of margins, the hardest thing I have ever done. It took me another hour and a half to get to the finish. Ninety, painful, tortuous minutes of trekking the like of which I had never done before. My clothes were sopping wet. I was completely spent. I was a broken man. I literally had nothing more left to give, but I had made it. I had fucking made it! I couldn’t believe it, but I had actually got to the top of this bastard canyon, this wonderful, beautiful, bastard canyon. I was elated.

And best of all, my little Jess had waited patiently there for me and welcomed me with a bottle of desperately needed water. She had been there for over an hour, as she had in fact finished first. How on earth this petite, slightly built girl had managed to find the power and energy to out-trek everyone else I will never know. She might be small, but by God she is fit. And I was proud of her, and she was proud of me. I was proud she had finished first, and she was proud that I had even finished at all. We had both conquered, in our different ways, this savage beast of a trek.

It didn’t sink in at first just what we had achieved. Just a walk to most people reading this I guess, but much more than a walk to those that made it. It was on the bus on our way back to Arequipa that its full impact came upon me. For the second time on this trip, I found myself fighting hard to hold back the tears of what we had done together. Not just the trek back up and out of the canyon, but everything that we had seen and done these last three days. The friendship we had formed with our guide, the camaraderie we had formed with our fellow trekkers, the things we had learned and conversations we had had with the local villagers, the night sky galactic display and just the sheer magnificence of the canyon itself. So many things, and another utterly incredible experience to add to this trip.

---

Part of trip: South America 2009 - Ecuador, Peru & Bolivia

---