After a yummy breakfast and much commiseration over the cold, los ratones (mice...the tour company was United Mice...at least we weren´t los ratones unidos) all assembled to present the porters with coca leaves to help them carry 25 kilos apiece over the next few days, up and down mountains. We had each been encouraged to buy some extra coca for the porters. I'd bought 4 bags of leaves and kept one for myself. I gave the other 3 bags to the head porter to redistribute to his guys. We all introduced ourselves, and Sol reiterated that we were all part of the United Mice family. She would alternate calling us together with the terms ratones and familia. For example, "vamos ratones!" y "OK, familia?" Cute.
Well, that little gathering did not last nearly long enough and by 7:30, we were beginning the final 400 meters of climbing. The last section of trail was even steeper than the previous 700m. Jesus wept. Try climbing that peak while carrying an unbalanced pack on very little sleep in the freezing cold after only one cup of coffee! Yikes! Well, I decided not to compete for the lead that morning, and hung back comfortably in 5th position, then ended up dropping back to 7th. Ouch. I was still wearing my thermals, 'cause it was soooo cold.
After an hour and a half of hiking, once the sun rose over the peaks, this changed to become unbearably hot. I suffered for around a half an hour looking for a convenient bush to duck behind and change clothes. No such luck. There was a 1000 meter drop off on one side and a vertical wall on the other. Finally, I decided to think of my underwear as a bathing suit and ducked behind a curve in the trail to do a lightning fast quick change. Now, I can add to my collection of life experiences exposing myself on the side of a mountain in Peru. The apus (mountains in Quechua) punished me for my disrespect by first breaking my sunglasses (OK, I stepped on them) and then getting a 65 year old porter to mug me. Yes, I was mugged by a porter.
Here's what happened. Coca stinks. The smell turns my stomach a little. Carrying 4 bags of coca in my black backpack under strong sun had encouraged the coca to release its aroma. All of my clothes stank of it. Therefore, this morning, I'd cleverly tied my one remaining bag to the outside of my pack. Well, this was apparently too much temptation for one porter. While I was putting on my shoes, he came around the trail, saw my coca, and started pulling on my arm begging for coca in Quechua. I told him, "no, I'm sorry, it's for me". He wasn't going to let go of me until I'd given him coca. Finally, after about 2 minutes during which the only escape would have been to hit an old man, I poured out half my bag into his shirt and booked it out of there before he demanded the other half.
I made the climb for the next 40 minutes feeling worse and worse. Of course, as soon as I'd given away half of my coca, I started feeling a bit of altitude sickness. My head was pounding and I felt queasy and lightheaded at the same time. Fun condition to climb a mountain. Well, even awful things come to an end. I made it to the top of the pass. Of course, pass is a bit of a misnomer. The "pass" was 4500m, with the "apus" on either side being just about 20m higher. Wow, some pass. I have to say that at that point I was comparing the Inka people unfavorably to the Romans. Straight roads really are easier to march on. At the top, after chewing some coca and drinking some rum, we recovered enough to look around and appreciate the breathtaking nature of the mountains. These are young mountains compared to those in the north. They are much more vertical than diagonal in rise. Truly inspiring. I would heavily advise against the use of any hallucinogenic drug in the mountains of Peru. Sober, I still felt the occasional urge to try flying.
After the requisite photo op, we had the great joy of starting down. We climbed down about 500m into a valley. It was beautiful and a nice change from moving my feet in an upward direction for most of the previous day. Unfortunately, I discovered that my ankles, despite wearing braces, have a tendency to twist under me if I don't pay close attention to where I'm going. So I had to come to a complete stop to admire the scenery. I highly recommend wearing boots rather than trainers when hiking the Inca trail. The whole thing is made up of rocks about a foot across that do not quite lie flat and that are covered in loose, slippery gravel. A bit precarious, especially with a long drop to one side.
At around 11:30, we were all assembled at the 2nd lunch site. Another chance to visit squat toilets and to stuff ourselves with wonderful food, after which we had no choice but to have a short siesta. Then it was time to climb again, though this time a mere 300m or so. Halfway up was the site Runkuraqay, a circular site that was discovered in 1915 by Hiram Bingham, four years after he discovered Machu Picchu. It is thought to have been a stopping point for pilgrims making the trek to Machu Picchu. It was easy to imagine a horde of older people and young families (similar to Muslims making the Hajj) all making their slow way up the trail to Runkuraqay. We had a short lecture there and then climbed the rest of the way to the next pass. Yosip had the lead for this section and blessedly climbs a bit slower than Sol.
When we came down from that second pass, we had another descent (about 300m) ahead of us. I only fell with twisted ankles 3 times going down that stretch. Ouch. At around 3:30, we were at Sayacmarca (Inaccessible Place), my favorite site. It is a fort situated on a tiny jut of a cliff, with no access except for an EXTREMELY steep staircase. It looks out over about 10 mountains and valleys, and is amazing. I explored a bit rather than resting while waiting for the whole group to assemble. This was a lucky choice because it meant that after the lecture, while everyone else explored, I had a head start on the 40 minute home stretch to camp. That 40 minutes was my favorite part of the trail. We had just entered the cloud forest, and the air was moist and warm. There were flowers and lush greenery. Instead of seeing straight down to the valley floor, I saw bushes of greenery to the side, giving me an illusion of safety. There were little streamlets, and log bridges over sections of the trail that had fallen away. It was definitely a movie scene.
Unfortunately, I was driven insane by endorphins and decided that I had enough daylight to wash my set of hiking clothes and have them at least partially dry before sundown. Sundown was 40 minutes away. I had a great time washing my clothes, face, arms, and legs and doing a wet wipe swipe to everything else. I placed my wet things over my tent in the sun and settled into my tent for a little rest. It was great. Then the sun went down and my things were still dripping. Hmmm. Well, we had tea and then dinner and had fun talking and playing silly games. Everyone agreed that today had been much much easier than the first day and as a result, we were feeling optimistic, even euphoric about the rest of the trek. Even so, we were all off to bed by 8:30 or so, and fell asleep to the sound of another group having a guitar-led singalong. Oh, there were 2 other groups with us at the first and second camp sites. We didn't interact much, but they were the same people we passed and were passed by throughout each day. I noticed that none of the SAS people were carrying their own packs. Grrrr.
Anyhoo, I wrote in my journal and fell into a delightful sleep. What's that? What about my wet hiking clothes? I had the brilliant idea that my body heat would dry them, so I put them in my sleeping bag with me. What? That doesn't sound brilliant to you? Well, it didn't seem so smart to me either when I woke up at 3 in the morning with the clothes still wet and my sleeping bag and sleep clothes wet, too! At least it was much warmer, only around 30 or so. I would have frozen if I'd tried that stunt the first night, but as it was, I removed my wet things, put on a hat, and went back to sleep. Dreamland was home for the next 3 hours 'til the usual 6am wake up call and cafe en cama. Luxury. There should be someone to bring me coffee in bed every morning!
Well, that little gathering did not last nearly long enough and by 7:30, we were beginning the final 400 meters of climbing. The last section of trail was even steeper than the previous 700m. Jesus wept. Try climbing that peak while carrying an unbalanced pack on very little sleep in the freezing cold after only one cup of coffee! Yikes! Well, I decided not to compete for the lead that morning, and hung back comfortably in 5th position, then ended up dropping back to 7th. Ouch. I was still wearing my thermals, 'cause it was soooo cold.
After an hour and a half of hiking, once the sun rose over the peaks, this changed to become unbearably hot. I suffered for around a half an hour looking for a convenient bush to duck behind and change clothes. No such luck. There was a 1000 meter drop off on one side and a vertical wall on the other. Finally, I decided to think of my underwear as a bathing suit and ducked behind a curve in the trail to do a lightning fast quick change. Now, I can add to my collection of life experiences exposing myself on the side of a mountain in Peru. The apus (mountains in Quechua) punished me for my disrespect by first breaking my sunglasses (OK, I stepped on them) and then getting a 65 year old porter to mug me. Yes, I was mugged by a porter.
Here's what happened. Coca stinks. The smell turns my stomach a little. Carrying 4 bags of coca in my black backpack under strong sun had encouraged the coca to release its aroma. All of my clothes stank of it. Therefore, this morning, I'd cleverly tied my one remaining bag to the outside of my pack. Well, this was apparently too much temptation for one porter. While I was putting on my shoes, he came around the trail, saw my coca, and started pulling on my arm begging for coca in Quechua. I told him, "no, I'm sorry, it's for me". He wasn't going to let go of me until I'd given him coca. Finally, after about 2 minutes during which the only escape would have been to hit an old man, I poured out half my bag into his shirt and booked it out of there before he demanded the other half.
I made the climb for the next 40 minutes feeling worse and worse. Of course, as soon as I'd given away half of my coca, I started feeling a bit of altitude sickness. My head was pounding and I felt queasy and lightheaded at the same time. Fun condition to climb a mountain. Well, even awful things come to an end. I made it to the top of the pass. Of course, pass is a bit of a misnomer. The "pass" was 4500m, with the "apus" on either side being just about 20m higher. Wow, some pass. I have to say that at that point I was comparing the Inka people unfavorably to the Romans. Straight roads really are easier to march on. At the top, after chewing some coca and drinking some rum, we recovered enough to look around and appreciate the breathtaking nature of the mountains. These are young mountains compared to those in the north. They are much more vertical than diagonal in rise. Truly inspiring. I would heavily advise against the use of any hallucinogenic drug in the mountains of Peru. Sober, I still felt the occasional urge to try flying.
After the requisite photo op, we had the great joy of starting down. We climbed down about 500m into a valley. It was beautiful and a nice change from moving my feet in an upward direction for most of the previous day. Unfortunately, I discovered that my ankles, despite wearing braces, have a tendency to twist under me if I don't pay close attention to where I'm going. So I had to come to a complete stop to admire the scenery. I highly recommend wearing boots rather than trainers when hiking the Inca trail. The whole thing is made up of rocks about a foot across that do not quite lie flat and that are covered in loose, slippery gravel. A bit precarious, especially with a long drop to one side.
At around 11:30, we were all assembled at the 2nd lunch site. Another chance to visit squat toilets and to stuff ourselves with wonderful food, after which we had no choice but to have a short siesta. Then it was time to climb again, though this time a mere 300m or so. Halfway up was the site Runkuraqay, a circular site that was discovered in 1915 by Hiram Bingham, four years after he discovered Machu Picchu. It is thought to have been a stopping point for pilgrims making the trek to Machu Picchu. It was easy to imagine a horde of older people and young families (similar to Muslims making the Hajj) all making their slow way up the trail to Runkuraqay. We had a short lecture there and then climbed the rest of the way to the next pass. Yosip had the lead for this section and blessedly climbs a bit slower than Sol.
When we came down from that second pass, we had another descent (about 300m) ahead of us. I only fell with twisted ankles 3 times going down that stretch. Ouch. At around 3:30, we were at Sayacmarca (Inaccessible Place), my favorite site. It is a fort situated on a tiny jut of a cliff, with no access except for an EXTREMELY steep staircase. It looks out over about 10 mountains and valleys, and is amazing. I explored a bit rather than resting while waiting for the whole group to assemble. This was a lucky choice because it meant that after the lecture, while everyone else explored, I had a head start on the 40 minute home stretch to camp. That 40 minutes was my favorite part of the trail. We had just entered the cloud forest, and the air was moist and warm. There were flowers and lush greenery. Instead of seeing straight down to the valley floor, I saw bushes of greenery to the side, giving me an illusion of safety. There were little streamlets, and log bridges over sections of the trail that had fallen away. It was definitely a movie scene.
Unfortunately, I was driven insane by endorphins and decided that I had enough daylight to wash my set of hiking clothes and have them at least partially dry before sundown. Sundown was 40 minutes away. I had a great time washing my clothes, face, arms, and legs and doing a wet wipe swipe to everything else. I placed my wet things over my tent in the sun and settled into my tent for a little rest. It was great. Then the sun went down and my things were still dripping. Hmmm. Well, we had tea and then dinner and had fun talking and playing silly games. Everyone agreed that today had been much much easier than the first day and as a result, we were feeling optimistic, even euphoric about the rest of the trek. Even so, we were all off to bed by 8:30 or so, and fell asleep to the sound of another group having a guitar-led singalong. Oh, there were 2 other groups with us at the first and second camp sites. We didn't interact much, but they were the same people we passed and were passed by throughout each day. I noticed that none of the SAS people were carrying their own packs. Grrrr.
Anyhoo, I wrote in my journal and fell into a delightful sleep. What's that? What about my wet hiking clothes? I had the brilliant idea that my body heat would dry them, so I put them in my sleeping bag with me. What? That doesn't sound brilliant to you? Well, it didn't seem so smart to me either when I woke up at 3 in the morning with the clothes still wet and my sleeping bag and sleep clothes wet, too! At least it was much warmer, only around 30 or so. I would have frozen if I'd tried that stunt the first night, but as it was, I removed my wet things, put on a hat, and went back to sleep. Dreamland was home for the next 3 hours 'til the usual 6am wake up call and cafe en cama. Luxury. There should be someone to bring me coffee in bed every morning!
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