Dead Woman's Pass

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I woke up to the sound of rain hitting the tent today and hoped beyond hope that it would pass quickly. The repair job that Javier's friend had done on my boots hadn't lasted very long, and the thought my feet getting wet whilst walking didn't fill me with joy. Keith and I were greeted with a steaming hot mug of Coca tea as we opened the tent, which one of the poncho clad porters brought us. It wasn't particularly cold this morning, but a warm cup of tea defiantly helped the wake up process! I got dressed and donned my waterproof trousers and the whole boot gaiters that I had bought in Cusco, much to the delight of the porters.

Joining everyone else in the mess tent, we were served piping hot quinoa porridge followed by an egg and vegetable wrap. Smithy had warned us that today was going to be one long continuous climb, so I wolfed down four or five pieces of bread and jam to make sure I was fuelled and ready to go. Having made our ascent so quickly, we were running strangely behind schedule this morning and as a result were the last group to leave the campsite at 8am.

We began our slow steady climb up the narrow path following Odey, until it started to widen. Now dressed in my full waterproof gear, Lil and I struck out ahead of the group, keen to make the most of our high energy breakfast. It was hard going as we climbed the rough waterlogged steps, but it was incredibly nice to chat to someone else in the group and share travel experiences with them too.

The scenery had disappeared under a blanket of cloud as we climbed through the densely packed trees that lined the trail. The many porters that had bowled past us yesterday on their way to set up camp had slowed significantly today. They had to make the same one-thousand-two-hundred metre climb as we did, but carrying over twenty-five kilos in their backpacks. Unsurprisingly it was Lil and I that were doing the over taking today, making sure we thanked them as we passed.

We arrived at our first checkpoint almost ten minutes ahead of everyone else. I had to take off my waterproof trousers because the inside of my outfit was almost as damp as the outside from the sweat. As everyone slowly began to trickle in, we each had a look on our face as if to say 'Oh my God, that was tough'. Once we had caught our breath and taken on some more water, Lil and I headed off before we got too cold.

The trail climbed ever steeper through the valley as the cloud continued to lay thick on the mountainside. It was hard to make out where we were headed, but Henk-Jan soon caught up with us and the three of us ploughed on up the trail. We passed more porters as well as other trekkers who were finding it hard going up the steep stone steps. Thankfully, the three of us had found a solid rhythm, and were just about able to hold a conversation as we walked.

After another hours trekking we finally reached to our morning tea stop at Llulluchupampa, a little sooner than our porters had anticipated. They hadn't quite finished setting up the tents when we arrived so the three of us tried to take shelter under what foliage we could find. It was another ten minutes before we were under the cover of the mess tent, by which time I had started to loose the feeling in my fingers. The rest of the group eventually joined us, and it was clear that a few of them were suffering for one reason or another. We sat and refuelled with freshly popped corn and milky hot chocolate before being told by Smithy that this was our last opportunity to buy things before we got to Wiñay Wayna. A few of us took the opportunity to grab a beer or two, to celebrate with tonight before we all set off up the steep trail again.

As much as Smithy had asked us to stick together, the pace made it much harder to climb. I could feel my feet squelching inside my boots and I was too afraid to look at them as I surged ahead to rejoin Lil, Henk-Jan and Heidi. Matt and Tori weren't far behind and we continued the long slog up the mountain, overtaking people who looked like they were in no fit state to be making the thousand metre climb to the pass. Odey continued to point out the summit as we climbed. It was barely visible through the thick cloud that was being blown over from the adjoining valley.

After almost four and a half hours trekking, gasping for air, we had reached the highest and most difficult point on the trek and it was immensely satisfying. Looking down from 'Dead Woman's Pass' we could just make out the point at which we had started. Once we had caught our breath and taken on water, Lil and Heidi began to offer all of our weary looking porters sustenance. I could only begin to imagine how hard they must have worked to reach the pass, considering I was caring less than half of what they were. It was bitterly cold as we waited for the rest of the group to catch up, and I began to lose the feeling in my fingers again. We cheered and clapped everyone that made it to the top of the four-thousand-two-hundred-and-fifteen metre pass, hoping that the friction would keep us warm at the snow covered peak.

Once we had regrouped and taken photos, we began the knee-jarringly steep descent to Paqaymayu where we would be stopping for the night. The rain had finally let up, but unfortunately all of the water was making it's way down to the river below across our path. It made for an awkward descent into camp as I again tried to dodge the puddles and keep my boots as dry as I could. Once the path had begun to flatten out we could see the welcoming tops of our little red tents appearing through the bushes. With the promise of warm dry clothing waiting for us when we arrived, our pace quickened and we arrived in next to no time.

There was just enough time to hang our damp clothes on the line and change into something dry before lunch was served. It was another hearty meal that after our huge energy expenditure was very well received. Smithy took the opportunity to introduce us to our team of porters who ranged in age from eighteen to sixty-three, all of whom had been doing the Inca trail for many years. We learnt that they only do the job for six months of the year, before returning to their farms or homes to carry on with their main trade. We in turn introduced ourselves to our team, giving them a little information about each of us. Although there was no way I would remember all of their names, it was good to be able to recognise their faces as we continued on, so I knew who to look after if they were flagging.

After lunch we had free time to relax and I tool the opportunity to inspect my boots. Unfortunately the soles had now come almost completely away from the rest of the boot and I considered myself lucky that I hadn't tripped over and gone flying down the stairs into camp. I attempted to blog about what we had done in the last couple of days, but due to sheer exhaustion wasn't able to write more than a few paragraphs.

After a little cat nap it was time for supper and I was ravenous, offering to finish anything that anyone didn't have room for. As we sat finishing our supper a very poe faced Smithy entered the mess tent. He apologised for not having joined us for dinner and explained that he had had to attend a very important meeting for all the lead guides. Smity informed us that there had been a serious landslide between our next campsite at Wiñay Wayna and Intipunku, the Inca Trail entrance to Machu Picchu. The landslide had taken with it part of the trail itself and unless it could be fixed, we would be unable to finish the Inca Trail. I looked at each of the faces around the table, before looking back towards Smithy and Odey. Having spent the last two days with these guys joking around, and entertaining us, I couldn't decided if they were winding us up or not. We had just scaled the highest pass along the Inca Trail in one of the fastest times Smithy had seen, so it was entirely plausible that he was having us on. Unfortunately, as he continued to explain what our options were, it slowly began to sink in that he was being entirely serious and my heart sank. I had been so looking forward to this part of my trip since I had booked it back in November, and it was now just a dream.

When Smithy had finished telling us about the contingency plan, we bombarded him with questions, trying to find out exactly what had happened and if there was anyway around it. No matter how many times Smithy repeated himself and how many times we asked the same questions, we refused to believe that it wasn't possible to finish the trail. It was sometime before we all finally gave up the cause and accepted that this was how it was going to be whether we liked it or not; our celebratory beers had turned into ones of commiseration.

As we all started getting ready to turn in for the night, there was an air of sheer frustration over the camp that all of our hard work today had been for naught. Keith and I had both been thinking the same thing when Smithy had broken the news to us, and as we talked rationalised the situation. We may not be completing the entire Inca Trail, but we would certainly have covered a lot more ground than most in the next two days when we finally arrived at Machu Picchu.

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