Inca Trail At Last

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Inca Trail Sept 9 - 13

The first place name proposed as a must see in Peru is "Machu Picchu." The second might be the Inca Trail, with a terminus at Macchu Picchu. Nazca or the Amazon basin and the Madre de Dios river region, the Sacred Valley, the Urubamba river, Sacsayhuaman, Manu Biosphere Reserve, or the city of Iquitos would be some of the others, along with Lima, Arequipa, Ausangate, Mares, and Inca Trail alternates such as Salkantay and Lares circuits or the Choquequirao to Vilcabamba trek.

The Camino Inca typically consists of a 25-mile, four-day hike from a point at "kilometer 88" near the Inca ruins and village of Ollaytantambo, another evocative place name, to Macchu Picchu. There are condensed versions and a leisurely five day option available through some agencies if you've got a large enough group. Ollaytantambo village is where your guide will secure porters for your trek and where you'lll have the last chance to buy walking sticks, "bastones," and cute woven water bottle carriers. Skip, if you can, any breakfast in Ollaytantambo on the morning of your departure, but eat plenty. The food is better once the hike begins.

Five hundred people, about 200 tourists and 300 of their support staff allowed, via strict permit, are officially allowed to start the trek on any given day of the month, except February when the trail is closed for maintenance. In May 2008, when first looking into a trip to Peru, the sight came up in: Inca Trail Availability.

August 30 was the earliest date an Inca Trail permit was available when I first looked; a few days later, it was September 3rd, and by the time I connect with a recommended tour company the earliest date became September 9th.

We are a group of four trekkers, five porters and our guide. My companions are a Yorkeshireman, his daughter and his son. They are halfway through a three week adventure to Peru, with prior stops in Lake Titicaca and Arequipa. It's a far cry from York, in the north of England, to here, as it is a far cry from Iowa in the middle of the Estados Unidos. Hat’s off to a dad who’s willing to take his daughter, a graduate student in the biological sciences and his son, an electrician in training, on such an adventure, and for his kids who are up for a trip with Dad.

Our van has carted us to the start at Km 88, and we see the Camino Inca trail sign and the rail tracks for the train from Cuzco to Aguas Calientes, the service town for Machu Picchu. And of course the Urubama River, another place name of renown. Twenty minutes of sorting and we are ready to roll. I have only to decide whether or not to engage the additional porter to carry my pack. It weighs no more than 20 pounds. First the guide says the extra porter is included, and then he’s not sure. No need for a misunderstanding over such an extravagence, so I decide to carry my own clothes and sleeping bag. I think or three day employment of a guide, four porters, and a cook is sufficient help to the local economy. Does the added porter see even 50% of the additional charge anyway? A trek like Colca to Andagua teaches what to bring, and not.

After 2 hours and a sweaty 500-foot ascent, we reach the Llactipata Inca site. We look at it from above. Our guide Walter says the site is an administrative center. Set below a large rock outcrop, nearly vertical, there's a pleasing arc of terraces following the turn of the hillside. There are buildings further down the hill, and an outpost circlular looking over the Urubamba valley. Three or four large boulders have fallen on to the site, and they lie embedded on the terraced area of the complex.

We’re on our way after twenty minutes, and lunch is an hour away. Our porter team has arrived at the lunch sight ahead and has pitched a mess tent. We have a 45 minute wait before lunch is ready, and we enter the mess tent. First there's marisco soup, tasty though light on any seafood. Then we have rice with stir fried vegetables, seasoned lightly with something that tastes like turmeric but not as yellow. It’s very good for lunch on the trail. We have dessert today, consisting of a local “custard apple” in syrup.

The path after lunch climbs a bit. We break in a village where we see porters taking a break and having chicha, a corn based beer. I buy a cola from one of the village women, and a candy bar. Bruce, a Yorkshire man with shrewd blue eyes of Viking stock, talks about his next job assignment in Dubai. He works in programmable industrial controls. Before that he was in Georgia, not the state but the country. He prefers working in foreign lands to any gig in England at this point. From here, Jo and Stewart lead the way, and by 3 p.m. we are in Campsite Five in the village of Wayllabamba. Guide Walter has pointed out dessicated bromeliads clinging to steep rocky hillsides. Day 1 on the Inca Trail.

Tents are already pitched and we have time to rest before "tea." A sleep mat outside makes a great place to gaze up at the afternoon Andean sky, looking toward high Mt. Veronica to the West and South and the nearer range of the Cordillera Urubamba, and at this point the foothills. Tea time has crisp popcorn, tea, and cookies (biscuits) and jam.

Our dinner consists of a tasty chunky beef dish that's broiled and cooked in a spicy sauce, mashed mandioc potatoes, and rice. The mandioc comes from the Peruvian Amazon jungle. I forget about the soup to start: mushroom in a light cream sauce and bits of carrot.

Inca Trail map: .

Day 2

Six a.m. and the cook's assistant is at the tent with coca tea. Buenos dias! We have toast and jam, with scrambled eggs and rice. Plenty to go around. Then it's off to begin the 5 hour, 1100 meter ascent to Warmiwanuski, aka Dead Woman's Pass. This is the hard day, and it finds us passing though a zone of moister weather where the vegetation becomes denser and trees larger: a cloud forest. Green hummingbirds appear with increasing frequency, and thickly growing Bromeliads cling to the trees which have a bark like that of sycamores.

Four hours into it, and we are at the last rest stop where local woman sell everything from cola to homemade animal crackers. Looking up the pass we spot small stick figures at the summit, and we are greeted by cold wind. On the way up to this point, Stewart and I pass a man in his early 60s, and the remarkable thing about him is that he's cut the leather of his boot heels off, clearly to deal with blisters, no doubt. At first glance this man doesn't appear overly happy too be here, but his steps are methodical and persitent, and his face, under an Ex Officio sun hat, has the wryest of smiles or is bearing the grimest look of happy determination that I've ever seen. For some of us, joy rests quietly under wraps.

The five hundred of us on the trail appear to be more packed here, and we often step to the side of the path to let porters pass us. They are carrying large packs, half as large as they are.

The Inca Trail going up Warmiwanuska is an alternate gravel path and large steps. Not much of this section is original we are told. The steps are higher than would be comfortable for a people who are have a median height 5.5 feet, excepting our guide tells us the statesque Inca nobility.

Hiking is all about finding a groove, a cadence, fit to the degree of flat, ascent or descent, and to one's fitness. After a feast of animal crackers, the forty-five minutes to the summit ridge goes well, but there's no rush. A cold mist awaits at the top. Guides herd groups around for pictures as they summit. People congratulate each other for an ascent well done. Many nations are represented.

Sweaty from the climb, I'm getting a chill waiting for the others in my group, but here comes the man with the heels of his boots cut open. He's a Marylander, a physical therapist by trade, possibly a survivor of Gettysburg. He's here with his sister and brother. They do an adventure vacation every other year. Past trips have included Kilimanjaro and white water on the Columbia. As for his boots: "I prevailed upon our cook to cut open the heels. I wore these boots last year in the Himalyas, no problem. Must be the swelling this time. I had blood in my sleeping bag from them." His sister and brother are still on the climb. We give our best wishes to each other and he is off to the next camp of the four day Inca Trail at a place called Pacomayo. This section calls for a 3,000 feet descent into a valley of grass, shrubs, and rocks over large steps. My toes are sore as hell, but thankfully, the heels are fine. After Stewart, the Yorkshire apprentice electrician, and Walter, our guide, appear at the summit, I move slowly down for warmer weather and the comforts at our next camp, #17 Pacomayo.

Between tea snack and dinner, I hike further on the trail about 1/2 mile. The lowering sun is casting a rich angling light onto the Urubamba hills and mountains in that way photographers love. The clouds are lowering too, and within 10 minutes of my return to camp, there's a steady downpour. Our tents are not completely leak proof, but all in all I'm dry through the four hour rainfall. Dinner is a more hushed situation tonight as we hunker in, somewhat chilled, and definitly tired from the day's effort. Stewart strikes up a game of solitaire and wants us to play cards. I'm having trouble seeing the cards in the weak lantern light. Better to go off to get a full rest after a meal of Peruvian sweet potatoes, seasoned rice, and tasty lentil beans.

Day 3 is cloud forest, ferns, a trek up the shorter pass of Runkurakay, then on to Sayacmarco, where we see Machu Picchu mountain from the southwest. Foliage grows more lushly as we descend, and we see many green huminbirds, bright violet flowers, the Peruvian blood plant (not quite the right name), and bamboo. We see no spectacled bear, which I take to be a rare find. Yesterday, our guide told us about the highly stratified Inca culture. All roads lead to Cuzco, really, fanning out from th central Suyo (region) of Cuzco to as far away as Ecuador. Their trade was barter, and they depended on reciprocity: things that to moderns would seem of unequal value were traded on equal exchange (a cow for a bag of corn). Power was highly centralized, but goods and foods were dispensed amply (in order to keep people building all those temples). As our guide for the Sacred Valley pointed out, the Inca stoneworkers must have truly loved their work because it's so reflected in the level of quality. Arguably, you simply don't see that artistry and love for quality and detail in any construction in Peru coming after the Inca. Day 3 was a chance to think about this, as we began to descend over some 2000 original steps on thge way to Intipata, an Inca site situated on a steep hillside above the camp. The afternoon light strikes the arcing terraces like a halogen track in an art gallery. White swallows swoop around the site as we rest for 20 minutes and take photos. The Urubamba river, 3 miles away, is audible here, but that's it as far as sound.

Before settling in camp, our guide takes us to Winay Wayna, which means Forever Young in Quechua. This site is nestled below the Sayacmarca pass we climbed down earlier, and consists of terraces and 15 dwellings. The roof lines are arched here, and would have been covered with grass. This was a small community, designed to supply new strains of crop seeds.

This camp, near Winay Wayna is a condensed complex of camp sites and tourist-oriented service buildings. There's large building with a bar and snacks. Semi-warm showers are available if you can deal with the level of hygene. There's a college campus/summer camp feel to the place and people are light-hearted and happy for making it this far. Our guide tells us the place is tame compared to the pre-permit days when the 4 days might stretch into 6 or 8, and people routinely climbed the high tension tower in the campsite, and fell off.

But nonetheless it's up at 4 a.m. tomorrow for the dash to the Sun Gate (Intipunku). Tonight we say thank you to the porters and to our cook and profer the customary tips. We aren't so sure that the porters have been as well cared for as us. One of them was laying under a blanket, shivering, as we arrived at the camp. Our guide indicates that the man has probably ingested some contaminated Chicha. He has received a dose of medicine. This is a place where one can get sick from eating or drinking something. It is not out of sight out of mind here. That could be what we didn't care for. Any of us could have bee in that man's place.

After dinner, the Yorkshirians and I chat for a while. I learn that Bruce would like to emigrate to Australia from England and advises his kids to do the same. We don't get very far solving the world's or England's issues tonight, but over the last three days learned a recipe for Yorkshire pudding and heard for the first time about a Yorkshire dish called Toad in the Hole. I'm glad for the company during this hike, and from England land at that. It's easy to get insulated. Thanks for the company.

Day 4 is Machu Picchu.

What can I say about this day: up at 4 a.m. and on the trail, with weak flashlight, at 4:30, and a rush to the checkpoint, and a wait until 5:30, then a rush to Intipunku, the Sun Gate. Why the rush I ask myself now. The sunrise, well, we took some snapshots and rushed on down to Machu Picchu. It was all very inspiring, and I got into the fast pace up to Intipunku. I treated it as an early morning training run: quite fun. It's similar to the time on the summit of a high mountain, where there's a short window for savoring the challenge and the view and then time to get out of harm's way and off the summit. Here we are in a contest with the tour buses laboring up the snaking road to Machu Picchu from Aguas Calientes. In addition our guide is tired and ready to see his family in Cuzco. He's been faithful and patient with his charges, and he's just a little bored after doing this gig for a while.

It's best to let the photos tell the rest of the story. One should encounter a World Heritage site such as Machu Picchu for itself. It's best to look beyond the crowds and the tourism to what's truly there: some amazing stone architecture built by a culture that was in history but has an almost pre-historical perspective. I say that because history is not all that cool sometimes. Although I would never want to loose a sense of history, it seems like a good idea to evaluate what we mean by "history" at times. What I'm trying to say is that a culture like the Inca's had a different sense of History than other groups, such as our own. They didn't have much written down, and so they are vulnerable to later interpretations. On the flip side, it might be easy to idealize a group such as the Inca as somehow purer. The history they have to share, however, is best shown in the ruined sites, in the stonework, in places like Machu Picchu.

I would be in the group, though, who says, that if you come to Peru and want to do some treking, check out some Machu Picchu alternatives. Machu Picchu though, and Wayna Picchu, offer a concentrated dose of what a culture like the Inca are all about.

From the inspiring Sun Gate, we have 45 minutes of descending trail to Machu Picchu proper. I'm bring up the rear due to additional photo taking and, as it turns out, I'm a clumsy descender. Give me a hill and I'll try to climb up it like a monkey, or Sisyphus. The turtles and stones will catch and pass me on the way down.

As we move in to the site, I'm most taken by the surrounding mountains and hills, in deep green relief, and the jungle that we know is just beyond and below them. It's not so much the site itself. Perhaps this is because we've seen many sites already. Still, the place has a mystic sense, and incredible stonework, even with the dozens of woman in "Inca" maiden custumery. There's a Bollywood movie underway here. Those of us coming off the Wayna Picchu climb have to detour around the shooting. The director doesn't want gawking gringos in the camera background! I don't have any sense that the place is sliding off the mountain, but it is definetly well-trod. I'm glad that the Peruvians have been able to establish a source of income here and hope they can maintain the balance of preserving it long term. History here is speaking in the stone.

After our guide makes a perfunctory departure, my Yorkshire friends say so long just as I step in line for the hike up Wayna Picchu. Having enough of hills (and more sense than I) they are off to look at Machu Picchu and to find the "Inca Bridge," if it is open.

Wayna Picchu is not Machu Picchu mountain, but the smaller rock just north and east of the Machu Picchu complex. It's a nice steep hike up the west side, and the view from the top toward Machu Picchu, on this morning at least, is more inspiring than that from the Sun Gate. It's just another angle, anyway, and later in the morning when the light has matured. The vibrant light has partially filled the shadows. Along the ascent, we pass above a section of Machu Picchu closed to tourists and open to archeologists.

After Wayna Picchu, I'm thirsty and tired. The Bollywood movie set has moved to the main restaurant, so those of us hungry for an early lunch must look elsewhere. Off I go to Aguas Calientes, though I do not make it to the hot water baths. I do find a satisfying sidewalk meal to pass the two hours until the Vista Dome train departs for Cuzco.

The trip is coming to a close.

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Photos

Read to go
Inca Trail Start with Bruce, Johanna, and Stuart of Yorkshire England

First Camp
Weather up at the Day 2 pass of Warmiwanuska

Warmiwanuska
Day 2 of 4, the tough day, cold and in a cloud, 14,000 in the air. Happy to be here.

Inca Trail Evening Light
Looking south toward Urubamba range after a hike over Warmiwanuska pass on Day 2

At Sayacmarca
Day 3 and learning about the Inca at Sayacmarca promontory.

Intipata Site Day 3
The Inca knew how to pick a place.

At Intipunku
6:15 a.m. and happy at the Sungate. Trail to MP at left. Wayna Picchu behind me.

Almost to MP
My Inca Trail Compadres. We humor the camera man.

Llamas at Macchu Picchu Commons
Day 4: Waynna Picchu background.

On Way To Wayna Picchu Summit
Neatly cut steps through the cave.

Wayna Picchu
Summit. Thanks to the Alabaman for taking this photo

Machu Picchu Scene
Looking over the "agricultural area" to the city

Llama talk
As the day wears on, I learn Harvey is actually a Llama.

Machcu Picchu Morning
Through the three windows of the sun house.

The Peru Rail Train
Vistadome to Cuzco