Where's Grayleen?

Last Monday we set out on a five-day, four-night trek to visit Machu Picchu. Over the five days we walked 36 miles, crossed a mountain pass 15,255ft high, descended thousands of feet through cloud forests, met fellow travelers from around the world, and were astounded by Machu Picchu.

Day 1: Cusco to Soraypampa

The first day of our trip did not go as expected. In fact, I now consider this the day that I was finally baptized into the chaos that often typifies Peruvian culture.

Our 4:30am pick up from our hostel turned out not to be a bus or taxi, but instead a half-asleep guy gesturing for us to follow him through the rain, cold, and dark. After making several stops along the way to collect other travelers and trudging for half of a mile, we arrived at the main town square and our awaiting bus. The bus soon filled up with not the maximum group size of 12 we’d been assured of, but well over 20 travelers. And we were off!

After driving for several hours along beautiful, twisting roads high up in the mountains (which means sheer drops and minimal guardrails), we arrived at our first small hiccup of the day. The driver of a medium sized truck with a extra large sized load appeared to have been watching those mountain views more than the road and had ended up stuck in a drainage ditch. The tow truck blocked the entire road. We watched as they threw rocks under tires and tried in vain to wrestle the truck from the ditch. After about 20 minutes of this, someone realized that if they moved the tow truck for a minute we could get past. As we drove by our bus driver had a window-to-window conversation with the tow truck driver. Someone in the group with strong Spanish translated, “He said something about the bridge ahead being out or something like that.” Uh-oh.

It turned out that there wasn’t a bridge, but rather that the heavy rains from the night before had redirected the river out of its banks and it was instead using a several hundred yard portion of the road.

We all piled out of the bus and joined the contingent of stuck Peruvians standing at the side of the river watching the bulldozer lamely push bits of dirt around in the completely wrong area. His actions appeared to make no sense to my fellow bystanders either and just about every male Peruvian present could be seen either shouting and waving emphatically at the driver or else pantomiming a different approach to his nearby friend.

It wasn’t long before these folks got fed up watching and decided to take matters into their own hands. A group of twenty or thirty men started picking up rocks and flinging them into the river one by one. Picture a raging river swollen from heavy rains and a group of men throwing rocks into the river to redirect it away from the road. Not to be left out, I also formulated my own opinion: these guys had absolutely no chance of actually moving the river! They were redirecting the flow of the water, but that would not change the fact that the road was lower than the path the river was supposed to take. You can’t beat gravity.

All of us on the trip were having a grand time – you just can’t pay for this type of entertainment – when they finally started to use one of the bulldozers in a way that seemed to make a lot of sense to me. The driver had driven out onto a tiny point of rock in the middle of the river and started to dig out from the bottom of the river and dump the rock into a kind of wall between the river and the road. The second bulldozer started to reinforce that wall (by taking dirt and rock out of a steep and unstable hillside on the side of the road, of course). We saw our first signs that the flow on the road had started to ebb.

The bulldozer out on the rocky point decided to reposition itself and we gawked as it started to sink right into the river.

By the time the second bulldozer had effected a successful rescue mission, a taxi driver realized that the flow of water over the road was now only several inches deep and, horn blaring, drove straight into the river-road at high speed. With water spraying, he made it successfully across the flow and onto dry road. We all ran back to our vehicles: the road was open!

We arrived hours late to Mollepata, the trail head for our first days hike. After stretching legs, we were corralled along with our belongings into a small room and were told that there was no way that we had time to make it to the first camp before dark (I strongly dispute this fact, but I guess Peruvians are very safety conscious). Lunch would be ready in 1.5 hours and then we would each need to pay 5 soles ($1.75) so that we could hire a truck to carry us to camp. Looking back I’m not sure why, but at the time we were very upset that we were being forced to pay for the truck when we’d rather have walked.

After a calming stroll through town and a hot lunch, we were finally introduced to the truck in which we’d be traveling. We were herded (fittingly) into the open back of a truck that appeared designed to transport cattle. The 24 tourists, 2 cooks, 2 horsemen, and loads of equipment, food, and baggage made for standing room only. We had to hold onto a tree trunk running the length of the bed that was on the verge of snapping. Of course, the two guides decided to ride comfortably up in the cabin with the driver. The ride was through stunning scenery and along the most treacherous roads I’ve ever encountered. I admit I spent a bit more of the trip thinking about the latter.

In short order we arrived safely to Soraypampa, a grassy fielded area with a few inhabitants living in the shadows of the magnificent Salkantay mountain. We swapped impressions of a very exciting and chaotic day with our fellow trekkers over dinner. We all agreed that while bummed we’d missed out hiking that day, we’d instead gained an invaluable education in the Peruvian way of life.

Day 2: Soraypampa to Chaullay

Day 2 is the big day of the Salkantay trek. It’s the day where you climb 2,500 feet up and over the pass next to Salkantay mountain at 15,255 feet and then descend almost 6,000 feet down to the village of Chaullay.

Our guides woke us up at 4:30am by knocking on our tent door and handing us each a cup of steaming coca tea and letting us know that breakfast would be ready in 30 minutes. Not a terrible way to start a day. We’d been warned ahead of time to be sure to drink the coca tea as it said to significantly reduce the effects of altitude. For those that are wondering, no, you cannot get high off of cocoa leaves. Cocaine is highly processed and purified.

Climbing to the top of the pass was a fairly uneventful four hours of steep uphill trekking. It was hard work but we were rewarded with amazing views of Salkantay mountain and the surrounding valley. We heard the frequent rumbling of massive avalanches coming down the face of the mountain and were lucky enough to see several.

At the top of the pass we performed a quick Quechuan ritual, leaving coca leaves and rocks we’d carried from camp at highest point in an offering to the mountain spirit. We posed for the obligatory “We did it!” photo op. At 15,255 feet, this was the highest that Aileen and I have ever been. (Of course, I climbed another 50 feet along the side of the pass just so that I have Aileen beat–ha!)

Then we started the long and arduous downhill trek that would ultimately last another 5 hours through non-stop rain. We followed a trickle of water that would eventually turn into a sizable river as we made our way further downstream. We descended through rocky mountainous terrain and down into the cloud forest and went from cold to very wet to hot. Unfortunately, we don’t have pictures to share as we were saving our low batteries for Machu Picchu.

We arrived late in the afternoon at Chaullay to find our tents ready and waiting in a grassy field next to a few mud buildings. Aileen went to rest her achy knees and I celebrated with much of our group over warm beer and popcorn before dinner and bed.

Day 3: Chaullay to Santa Teresa

Day three started much like the previous day: we were awoken early with the delivery of our hot coca tea (I could get used to this) followed by breakfast. We were told that we’d only be hiking for six hours today before lunch and then we’d catch a bus the remainder of the way to Santa Teresa where the promise of hot springs and swimming pools awaited. No problem. We put back on our trusty ponchos and got going.

After our mid-morning break (complete with sun) and about half of the day’s distance, I started to realize that something was amiss with my stomach, very amiss. And, true to my worst fears, things did not take long to develop into a full fledged problem. They say that the longer you’ve been traveling the more inclined you are to discuss every last detail of the bathroom problems you’ve been having with the people you meet: frequency, color, consistency, and so on. But since most of you have not been traveling, I’ll spare you the details. Let’s just say that things were “not good”. Didn’t I just go through this back in Seattle on Memorial day?

With no towns between me and our destination, there was no choice but to press on. After several “not good” hours of hiking, we finally arrived at our lunch spot and the end of our hike for the day. I sprawled out on the ground, declined lunch, and wished for better times. As it turned out, rock bottom ended up being the bus ride over an extremely bumpy road with blaring pop music. I’ll take this moment to thank my Aileen and my fellow hikers for collecting the plastic bags – they were super handy as I continued to empty my stomach along the way. Thanks, guys!

Our camping spot in Santa Teresa was on the unfinished, bare concrete second floor of a building. I don’t think anyone else liked the place, but I was smitten because on the first floor there were rooms for rent. For the low, low price of 10 soles ($3), I acquired a sizable room with a comfortable bed, warm blankets, electricity, and, most importantly, a private bathroom! Heaven is a private bathroom.

While I suffered in bed, the rest of the group headed out to the hot springs. I insisted that I was fine and that Aileen go along. When they returned for dinner, they assured me that it had been a terrible time and that the hot springs weren’t very nice. I appreciated the lie, but it was clear they had had an amazing time. (Aileen: Okay, the truth: the hot springs were amazing, with mountains overlooking the beautiful pools and waterfalls.) Feeling a bit better, but not well enough to eat yet, I went to be at 8pm. Most everyone else ate and then partied at the disco until the wee hours of the morning.

Day 4: Santa Teresa to Aguas Calientes

I woke up on the fourth day after sleeping almost 12 hours and felt much better. I was able to handle a bit of bread and tea for breakfast and decided I was fit enough to head out on the trail with everyone else. And, oh yeah, happy Thanksgiving!

We followed another river but this time we walked upstream. The steep wall on each side of the river were grand in scale. We passed by a raging waterfall that was pouring out of the rock face along which we were walking, right below the level of the road. The volume of water pouring out of this huge hole was incredible. We were baffled as to where the water came from and how this tube had formed. We arrived at the town of Hydroelectrica (named aptly after the local hydroelectric plant) in time for lunch.

After lunch, Aileen took off with most of the group and walked along train tracks for another three hours to Aguas Calientes, the town at the base of Machu Picchu. I had bought a train ticket in the morning as insurance against my stomach and I was glad I did. Most of the group had passed on the train tickets but now, in the rain, they regretted their decision. We never did get a suitable explanation for why you had to buy tickets in Santa Teresa and could not do so at the train station. We learned simply, “It’s impossible.”

Aguas Calientes is not beautiful. The town exists only because it’s at the base of one of the most visited tourist attractions in the world. The buildings are ugly and it is overrun with tourists. On the flip side, there are tons of restaurants and hostels ranging from dirt cheap to extremely fancy. After hot showers, quick calls to family, and dinner (I was able to eat potatoes and rice with no problems), we headed to bed.

Day 5: Machu Picchu, Huaynapicchu, & return to Cusco

Machu Picchu day! This is why we’d walked all this distance. In case you don’t know, Machu Picchu was a winter retreat for the Inca king and his royal family. It had a population of 500 full time residents. Going in, we had high expectations after hearing so many people rave about it and after having seen the post card pictures on the internet and in every shop we passed in Cusco. Aileen and I had learned all about the Incas by reading the best history book ever written, an absolute page turner, The Last Days of the Incas. I highly recommend it.

We woke up at 3:30am in order to meet our guide and group on the main square at 4:10am. Aileen and I were minutes late, and we found ourselves almost jogging to keep up with the guide as we rushed to catch the rest of the group.

The climb from Aguas Calientes takes about an hour and is made up of nothing but extremely steep stairs. I heard both 1,000 and 1,400 quoted as the number of steps. We arrived at the main gate at 5:30am, 30 minutes before opening. This early hour ensured that we would be among the 400 first visitors of the day who are given a ticket to climb to the top of a another nearby mountain overlooking Machu Picchu called Huaynapicchu. We both changed into the clean shirts our guide had reminded us to bring along.

At six we entered Machu Picchu and our expectations were surpassed. No picture of Machu Picchu seems to really capture how large and well-constructed it is. It’s not a bunch a ruins like other places I’ve been. It’s a fully intact and planned city built out of granite with sectors for farming, living, worshiping, and commerce. Aside from the missing thatch roofs, it appears that the inhabitants could have moved out the day before. There’s no way I’ll capture it in words or in pictures, so you’ll just have to visit it yourself someday (the 5-day trek is optional).

After our tour and roaming around astounded for a while, it was time to climb Huaynapicchu. This involved climbing another 600 feet almost straight up on some of the steepest steps I’ve ever encountered. As we neared the top, the rain and the clouds arrived in full force and our views disappeared. Oh well.

After descended from Huaynapicchu, we decided we’d had enough rain and cold and hopped the bus back down to Aguas Calientes along with Miguel and Javier, two friends from our group. They are Spaniards, so of course we needled them for having decimated the Inca people who were clearly quite awesome. Real nice, guys.

After lunch at a nice restaurant, we took a train and then a bus back to Cusco, arriving at 10:30pm. We immediately turned around and went out to meet a bunch of the group at a cool little bar in the same neighborhood as our hostel. We were in bed by 3:15am… just shy of 24 hours after waking up that morning. A very long and great day!

(More photos from our trek and Machu Picchu here.)

Logistics

Here’s a bit on logistics in case you’re ever interested in visiting Machu Picchu and participating in one of these treks. We definitely recommend it!

Our unwillingness to plan far ahead meant that we could not partake in the official Inca Trail trek. It is highly regulated by the government with slots filling up months in advance. Many argue that the “alternative treks” such as Salkantay are even better than the Inca trail itself, and I would have to agree.

The key differences between Salkantay and the Inca trail:

• Depending on the season, between 1500 and 2000 people start out each day on the Inca trail. This means it’s extremely crowded and reports from my brother, Jason, are that they toilets along the trail are not nearly sufficient. In contrast, a total of 24 people started the Salkantay trek on the day we went.
• The Inca trail is along the trail built by the Incas out of stone and is still intact. I imagine this is quite cool. The Salkantay trek follows the path of another Inca trail, but it has long since been destroyed by pack animals knocking all of the rocks around and is now just a dirt trail.
• Salkantay is much, much cheaper than the Inca trail. We payed $170 each when booking in town. And that covered access to Machu Picchu (~$40) and the train out of Aguas Calientes ($29).
• Folks on on trip payed a wide range of prices for the exact same package. The lowest we heard was $150 and the highest $400. If you can, book in Cusco and negotiate the price. Be prepared for sketchy travel agencies that have no real understanding of the details of what they are selling. We insisted on meeting and speaking with our guide before paying for the trip to ensure honest information.