Advertisement
Published: June 13th 2009
Machu Picchu
Day 4: What I had been waiting to see...... The Inca Trail is my bitch
This was the one part of my trip that I had dreaded the most, feared the most. The Inca Trail. For months before, I had contemplated chickening out and getting the train up to Machu Picchu on the last day, just so I could avoid the trail itself - but I didn’t want to regret it later on. Eventually ‘D-Day’ rolled around and it was time to do it. Time to walk the trail - 45kms in 4 days, highest elevation of 4200m. How hard can it be?
Day 1: 11 kms - Walking Time: 6 hours Laura (my roommate) & I got split up from our original group & were placed into another group of 8 people, 2 guides, 14 porters & 2 guides - One big happy family! The first day of the walk was classified as a ‘training day’, which meant some flat ground & some slight steep walks before reaching the campsite.
I started okay. I kept up with my group for the first few hours of the trek (ie the flat section). I walked with them through the various communities living in the
The start of the Inca Trail
Day 1: Me & my group all ready to go lower altitudes of the trail and looked at the various Inca ruins that were along the way. However, once the steepness started to kick in, I started to slow right down to almost a crawl. I couldn’t help it.
For the rest of the day, I lagged behind & became fast friends with my guide, swapping stories in both Spanish & English as we walked - but of course truth be told, I didn’t really speak much, doing my best to concentrate on my breathing and counting the steps till I could eventually stop walking and collapse. I made it back to camp only 30 minutes after the rest of my group. I was tired, but satisfied that I had made it through the first day and was not the last one to make it back to camp (There were 2 other girls who made it to camp 1 ½ hours after me). After dinner, we spoke about our plans for the following day, considered the worst day of the tour and then I went off to bed (asleep by 7:30pm), filled with dread about what tomorrow would bring.
Day 2: 11 kms - Walking Time: 12 I know I can.....
Day 1: Still smiling and ready to take on the world.... hours
We were up at 6:00am today and set of for our walk at 6:30am. Today was going to be the worst of the 4-day trek. I had to conquer ‘Dead Woman’s Pass’, the highest elevation of the trek at 4200m. This was then to be followed by conquering another pass (although not as high as the first one, with an elevation of only 3,950).
It was tough. There is no other way to describe it. Leaving our campground ‘Yuncachimpa’ we set of for our first trek of 1½ / 2 hours to reach our fist rest stop at ‘Llullchapampa’. This part of the trek consisted of nothing but steep upward steps, meaning that I soon lost my group as I slowed down to my usual crawling pace, while they marched on through. My next rest stop was going to be another 1½ / 2 hours later at Dead Woman’s Pass’ itself, so I knew I just had to keep pacing myself to make it to the top of the mountain. Walking & watching so many people moving ahead of me was disheartening (but by this stage, I was getting used to it). Porters would run past me laden
Inca Ruins
Day 1: Walking through the ruins at the start of the Inca Trail down with stoves, camping equipment, and 25 kilos, while I was practically hyperventilating. I knew exactly where I needed to be, but it seemed that no matter how fast or how long I walked - it just didn’t seem to be getting any nearer to me. My group waited close to an hour for me as I continued (at a snail’s pace) to reach the top of the pass. Eventually, by the time I got there, words failed me - I was just so happy to finally make it up to the top, I cried (something that I would continue to do for the rest of that very painful day). I had no energy left but knew that I was only a third of the way there - had been up for 6½ hours and had been walking for 6 of them. Could I do anymore? Did I have a choice?
I still had another 2 hour trek downhill to reach our lunch stop of ‘Paqaymayu’. At first downhill seemed like heaven, considering my earlier ascent, but once again - it seemed to stretch out forever and I stopped caring about the scenery. I spent most of my time
Are you kidding me?
Day 1: A glimpse of Dead Woman's Pass in the distance (the little nipple looking thing in the middle of the photo). This is what I had to conquer on Day 2 concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I just wanted to make it to lunch, knowing that the rest of my group would not start lunch without me; knowing that they were essentially almost there and would have to wait over an hour for me just to catch up. I made it. Ate as much as I could, without gagging as I was too tired to chew my food, too tired to do anything but hope to sleep but I knew I still had to go on. I knew that I still had another pass to climb before I had any hope of being closer to the end of the day.
As I slowly made my way up to the second pass, I moved slower and slower. Again, it seemed that every time I thought I made it to the top; thought that I had reached the summit of the second pass, it seemed to keep going. At this point, it was close to 4pm. I had to make it up and over the second pass and continue downhill towards the campsite before sunset. I had been walking for close to 10 hours and I still
Almost there.....
Day 1: It started to drizzle and I just wanted to wear my very stylish poncho. I couldnt pass it up wasn’t getting anywhere. I almost gave up at this point and sat on a rock, overlooking a lake that I had absolutely no interest in seeing. I didn’t care about any of the ruins that I was passing along the way and instead sat there staring at the sky, hoping that if I closed my eyes for a minute, I would wake up and realise that it was only a nightmare and I wouldn’t have to walk anymore. I sat there slowly blubbering to myself, while Jose, my guide sat beside me telling me that I wasn’t the only one who went through it and that we were ‘almost there’. I didn’t care.
I made it to the top, had another wonderful high as I knew that I had done the worst part and that I had nothing but downhill left to go before I reached camp. I practically ran down the first half hour of the downhill trek. But then I stopped. Why did it never end? I kept looking for the camp and couldn’t find it. What seemed like hours later (it was actually 1½) I finally got my first glimpse of the camp and almost feinted
Our accommodation
Day 1: Our tents lined up in a row. Mine is the one with Laura sticking out of it in the pink poncho (yes, she picked the colour) - it was on another mountain to the one that I was on. The sun had set and all I could see were the feint lights of the campsite. I would still have to trek down the mountain and back up again to reach the campsite. I couldn’t speak. I was like the donkey that refuses to move. I had finally given up and was happy to sleep where I was. It was 6pm and officially dark and I didn’t have the energy to look for my torch. In the darkness, two porters from my group came bounding up the path to help me reach the campsite. Together with my guide, the three of them led me the remaining half an hour to camp, almost dragging me in some parts as I no longer cared where I was going. I reached campsite over an hour after my group, who had still taken an extra detour to visit a ruin near the camp. I sobbed in earnest as I reached camp, was given claps from my group and was almost carried to my tent by Laura. That day was one of the most physically demanding of my life and I was
Snack time
Day 1: After we arrived, we were treated to popcorn, biscuits warm tea and coca leaves whilst waiting for dinner glad it was over. I was also glad that I had completed it, giving me a sense of achievement that I have not known in a long time. (I was also glad that I wasn’t the last to reach the campsite that night, two other girls in my tour group reached camp close to two hours after me….). Later that night, I barely touched my food and passed out quicker than I could blink.
Day 3: 9 kms - Walking Time: 5 hours ‘Happy Birthday’ to me……..I woke up to cake prepared by the camp chef and songs of happy birthday. What was my present? A shower! Today’s present to myself was going to be a hot shower, my first since I started the trek 3 days previous.
It was going to be an ‘easy’ downhill hike towards our campsite, and then we would have the rest of the afternoon free to relax. We spent the morning ‘getting to know’ our porters by sitting with them and asking then a series of questions before relaying this information back to our group, as our last real one-on-one interaction with them.
Then it was the start of the
Desert Time
Day 1: Flambe Bananas... This is 5 star camping. trek. It started easy enough, this time I took the time to take photos, to look at the flowers and to take in the scenery. I was able to follow my group for half of the way, a first for me for the duration of the trek. Then as I knew it would, I soon lost them and made my way slowly down the mountain towards our last campsite of ‘Winya Wayna’ (altitude 2,700).
Again, it just seemed to keep going. My group managed to visit another Inca ruin, while I spent the duration of the trek concentrating on making it down the mountain and back to the campsite in time for lunch with the rest of my group. Jose, my guide, my new best friend, was basically the only person I had contact with for the last three days. However, the bounds of friendship were starting to feel the strain, after his constant replies of “20 minutes to go” to my questions of “how long?” never seemed to materialise. My language soon became as colourful as the flowers around me and he soon stopped responding to my questions of how long to go and I wisely stopped asking.
Watch out for the llamas
Day 2: My first break at the top of a series of steps, waiting for the llamas to cross our path I don’t know how! But I finally did it. I reached the campsite in time to join my group for the second course of lunch. For the first time in three days, I had an appetite and I knew that it was finally over (except for the morning trek to the sun gate the next day).
Later that day I celebrated my birthday with an afternoon snooze, a hot shower, a shot of pisco & a mini-bar sized bottle of rum and topped it off with a cadbury’s chocolate bar. I slept like a baby that night. Was there any surprise about that?
Day 4: 6 kms - Walking Time: 2 hours A day I will never forget - one that started out fabulous, turned horrible and ended wonderfully.
I set of together with my group, the second group to start the trek that morning. I knew that I had to make it and make it quickly. I didn’t want to let my group down and wanted to make it in time for our group photo at the entrance of the Sun Gate, our first glimpse Machu Picchu. I was so proud of myself for
I conquered dead Woman's pass
Day 2: I finally made it to the top. Here I am relieved and teary that I had actually done it being only 10 minutes behind my group, so proud that only two other people overtook me that morning. As I reached the bottom steps of the Sun Gate, Laura sat on the steps waiting for me, running down to meet me halfway to help me make the distance so we could see Machu Picchu together. (With friends like you Laura, What more do I need? Thank you so much!).
After four very painful days, I finally got a glimpse of what I had trekked for - Machu Picchu. I was so happy, I was at a loss for words. I practically ran down the mountain to reach the entrance gate.
But what turned into a joyous occasion for everyone turned horrible. As I made my way down the mountain, I soon found out that one of the girls from my tour group had fallen of the cliff, had fallen 20 metres, and was thankfully hanging on thanks to the help of her walking stick. What could have been disastrous never eventuated - Thankfully she was pulled up and stretchered down the mountain, through the gates of Machu Picchu and into the waiting arms of the ambulance, walking away
Me & Jose
Day 3: The start of the downhill day....here i am still smiling, happy that Day 2 is actually finished. with nothing more than a few scratches and a badly bruised knee.
That night - as we, all made our way back to Cusco, we celebrated over pizza & copious bottles of red wine, the fact that we had accomplished the trek, celebrated that fact that we were all together, and most of all celebrated what did not happen, what almost happened.
The experience of Machu Picchu is certainly not something I will forget in a hurry.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.202s; Tpl: 0.014s; cc: 11; qc: 66; dbt: 0.0738s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
