Family Holiday and Birthdays

It's been quite the week.  Both Allie and Justin were supposed to join us at the house for Christmas.  But the weather and Frontier Airlines presented some challenges.

On Thursday night, Allie was scheduled to fly from San Francisco to Vegas to Chicago on Frontier Airlines.  Due to the blizzard conditions, a/k/a the cyclone bomb, Allie's departing plane never arrived in San Francisco.  The flight was delayed from 11 p.m. to 4 a.m and eventually, both the Vegas flight and the Chicago flight were cancelled.  

My dear daughter, not easily deterred, demanded a refund and immediately re-booked a non-stop flight to Chicago on American Airlines, scheduled to arrive only an hour after her original flight.  She boarded at 5 a.m. and arrived in Chicago at 11 a.m.

Meanwhile, in the Midwest, we were all warned to stay off the roads, due to life-threatening conditions.  There ended up being a lot less snow than predicted, but it was still -10 F with 45 mph gusts when I left the house.  Wind chills were below -40 F.  Except for a semi-truck being blown partially into my lane while I was alongside, the trip down was uneventful.  On the way back, the roads were icing up.  Many vehicles were in the ditch.  Semi-trucks stopped running on the side of the road, as diesel became semi-solid in the cold.

We stopped in Madison to say hi to Justin at his apartment and then headed for home.  Justin's caregivers were off work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so I would be returning the next day.

The trip to get Allie was in my comfortable, high clearance, four-wheel drive Nissan Frontier.  To get Justin, we needed to dig the front-wheel drive wheelchair van out of the snow.  Then I plowed the long shared driveway on the hill without the help of the neighbors who fled to their own family Christmas in northern Minnesota. Julia scraped our short, steep driveway so that I would have a better chance of making the last 90 degree turn with the van.  

On the way to Madison, the van developed a violent vibration at anything over 50 mph.  I was going to turn around, but Julia strongly suggested that I continue but drive slow.    Just past the I-39/151 exit, I saw a red pickup truck that slid off into a deep snowbank and somehow caught fire.  There wasn't anybody in the cab when I drove by, but the front of the vehicle was ablaze, and a cloud of dark smoke drifted across the road, stinking of burning tires.

I loaded up Justin at his apartment and headed back home.  The fire department was still at the scene of the accident, and the pickup truck looked black all over with broken windows.  We saw many more vehicles in the ditch north of Madison.

Eventually, Justin and I made it to our road.  Even though we had prepared the driveway adequately, the county had not plowed our public road on that day.  I tried to make it up the road, but there was just too much drifted snow from the high winds, so I needed to retreat backwards. The only way that I was going to get up was to plow the public road myself.  

I called Julia who walked down to the van. She sat with Justin, keeping the engine and heat running.  Then I walked home and retrieved my atv/plow.  It didn't take too long to clear the public road so that I could get the proper running start at our driveway with the van.

Justin and I have made this adventurous run up the driveway many times, but it's been at least a year.  I have one rule:  he must stay silent.  I hit the road at 40 and kept enough momentum to make it to the driveway at 30.  From there, it's a slow curve that we slide through to maintain enough momentum up the long shared driveway and then the 90 degree turn up our short private driveway.  We made it!  The family was all there.

Allie, Justin, Julia and her brother Scott

Julia is a Christmas baby.  I didn't bake her a cake, but I did assemble an ice cream cake for her.  My birthday is next month.  My wish list:  a lifetime Senior National Parks Pass.

The mechanical problem with the van must have been related to the extreme cold.  A day later, when I returned Justin to his apartment, the vibration mysteriously resolved. 

Last Days in Peru

In the morning, we walked to the central market.  I think I've mentioned chicha before.  It's a Peruvian mildly fermented beverage made from corn.  Corn comes in many shapes and colors in Peru.  Here is a guy selling it from five-gallon buckets in the street.

The strawberries weren't overly sweet but were bursting with flavor.

The meat market did not resemble our local markets at home.  Meat does not come in neatly wrapped cellophane/styrofoam.  I remember a lady telling me at my coffeeshop that she only buys individual chicken breasts because she doesn't like to be reminded about the chicken.

For lunch we went to the restaurant Chicha, based upon several recommendations.  Unfortunately, the food wasn't that good, and it was probably the most expensive meal that we had in Peru.  Sometimes, it's the hidden gems and surprises that form the best memories.

We spent the afternoon buying gifts for friends and family back home and hanging out in the plaza.  Our time in Peru was coming to an end.  On the next morning, we flew to Lima.

And then it was a flight to Miami, where we were finally able to complete our Global Entry interviews in anticipation of future international travel.  Finally, we were on a flight for Chicago and driving back home.

We will be going to Mexico for a longer trip sometime next year  While I plan to write about it during our travels, I'll most likely post here after we return.

Machupicchu Pueblo

 

 We took a short bus ride from Machu Picchu to the small town of Machupicchu Pueblo.  From here, the train would take us back to Cusco.  But first it was time for a beer.  Never mind that it was only 10 a.m. Time is an abstract concept.

Our fellow hikers, G and P, headed off to nearby Aguas Caliente, a nearby hot springs.  Julia and I toured the town.  Julia had been looking for condors during the entire hike, but we didn't see one until we got to town.  The guys on top at Dead Woman's Pass said that we had just missed one.

 

As you might expect, the town is very touristy, being the gateway to Machu Picchu.  However,  the natural setting is spectacular.

 

We met for a late lunch with G, P, and Freddy.  I really enjoyed this time for relaxed socializing.  Freddy was much less formal--now that the hike was over, and he didn't have to worry about our well-being.  He shared some good stories, including the time that some guests invited him to participate in an Ayahuasca ceremony.

Eventually, it was time for us to catch our afternoon train.  Freddy got a well-earned tip from the four of us.  There were lots of enthusiastic hugs and handshakes.  

The train was comfortable.  We enjoyed the scenery through the windows while it was still daylight.   When darkness came, we passed time with a Portuguese couple sitting opposite to us.  The ice was broken in an unusual way. 

 They had also completed the Inca Trail but as part of their honeymoon. During the train trip, her engagement ring had slipped off her finger to the floor.  We all got down on our hands and knees to search.  Julia came up with the big rock. They were a delightful couple, sharing stories about Portugal and asking us lots of questions about America.

 

Masks required on trains

 

The train arrived late to Cusco.  Our tour company rep was waiting with a van to take us to our hotel.  We stayed up to take long showers but quickly fell to sleep afterwards. The next day would be a free day on our own, and then it would be time to fly back to Lima.

 

 

Inca Trail: Machu Picchu

 

Machu Picchu is one of the seven wonders of the world.  Visited by 1.5 million visitors each year, people from all over the world travel great distances by plane, train and then bus to be here.  Many are checking off bucket lists.  

During the week before hiking the Inca Trail, we talked to an older couple from Canada who had just returned from their hike.  We asked whether the journey to Machu Picchu had been worth it?  The guy laughed and said that the Inca Trail was amazing but not to fall in love with the idea that Machu Picchu was going to be some kind of climax to the hike.  

"It's amazing, don't get me wrong," he said.  "But it doesn't compare to the hike itself."  

We didn't really understand until we were standing at Machu Picchu.  In many ways, it wasn't different from the other ruins that we had seen:  just on a grander scale.  It did have a more colorful name.  Machu Picchu translates to "Old Penis." Most people in the U.S. also pronounce it wrong.  It's Ma-chu Pic-chu.

We were excited about the how it represented successfully finishing the hike.

We began touring the ruins at about 7:30 a.m.  The hikers had the entire place to themselves because people arriving by train/bus weren't allowed in until about 9 a.m.

We could have stayed there all day amongst the hordes of tourists. In truth, we were exhausted and didn't even last until 9 a.m.  As we left the control point, the first crowd of people from the early bus/train waited to get in.  We could hear their guides explaining that we had hiked the Inca Trail so had gained early entry.  There may have been a small measure of pride as our smelly bodies and grizzled faces shouldered through the crowd.  First stop was a real toilet.  Next stop was a beer. 

Early December Update

I had good intentions to finish the Peru posts, but then things came up to postpone those writings.  First, we had company arriving from Julia's side of the family to celebrate Thanksgiving.  That celebration lasted several days before and after Thanksgiving.  One of those guests, who shall not be named (nephew, Zach), left a present for me in the form of a nasty cold and cough.  I'm through most of the symptoms, except for a lingering cough.  But I feel well enough to finish up the Peru posts.  Putting it in writing in this post is accountability to myself to get my butt off the "sick couch" and join the living again. How much mindless tv should a sick person watch?  Never mind with the answer to that question.

Inca Trail: The Sun Gate

It was October 1st and our last day on the Inca Trail.  At 4:30 a.m. we received the word to pack up our gear so that the porters could break down camp and head down the mountain.  During the next half hour, we drank coca tea and had a light breakfast of fruit and bread.  Then all of the porters rushed down the mountain with the gear.

Next, most of the tour groups headed down the mountain in the dark with  headlamps on towards the final checkpoint.  We stayed behind at the empty camp for the next hour.  Freddie explained that the final checkpoint didn't open until 6 a.m.  The other groups were going to bunch up in line where there were no views, no bathrooms or places to sit.  So we sat on a rock wall with Freddy and waited for dawn.

 

It was pleasant enough and a lesson in patience.  About ten minutes to six, we hiked ten minutes and arrived at the checkpoint just as the office opened.  As Freddie predicted, there was a long, standing line of hikers, waiting.  They got in two minutes before us.  Freddy smiled and winked.

 

Not a race

 

The trail was mostly flat or gradually descending with one exception:  the Monkey Climb.

Then suddenly we were there:  the Sun Gate overlooking Machu Picchu.

Julia asked me not to post the photo, but she cried tears of joy just before the group shot above.  We made it!

Inca Trail: Intipata and Final Night

 We had hiked a long day--through fog, rain and slippery rocks on the trail.  Our reward was Intipata, an impressive set of ruins consisting of dozens of agricultural terraces built by the Inca.

From here, we could see the valley floor where we would make our final camp.

 As Freddy promised, the final camp was crowded with 200 other hikers and about 300 porters, guides and cooks.  

The bathroom situation was atrocious.  There were no toilets--just a recessed porcelain hole into the ground.  Those who could not squat had a problem.  There will be no pictures but you can imagine what the floor looked like.  Every once in awhile, we heard screams and yells from failed attempts.  It was funny but not funny.  We all vowed to wait until we reached the tourist toilets on the next day at Machu Picchu.  

That night, we had a special dinner with the cook baking a celebration cake for the last night.

It is customary to tip the porters and cook on the day before Machu Picchu.  There were six porters.  Before the tipping ceremony, there was a group photo.

Everyone worked extremely hard for us during this trip.  Freddy suggested a tip of $25 for each porter and $50 for the cook.  After the photo, each porter told us where he was from and about their family. Freddy translated as none of the porters spoke English.  Spanish was a second language, as their first language was Quecha, the language of the Inca still spoken by eight million people living in the Andes.

The porters would not be traveling with us on the next day.  We would need to get up at 4:30 a.m. so that the porters could break camp and hike down to the town below with our gear. 

Inca Trail: Should Have Been Here Tomorrow

We asked our guide Freddy at the beginning of the hike what his favorite day of the trail was, and he responded without hesitation: the day before Machu Picchu.  "The views are amazing," he promised.

More Ruins

By noon, we had covered about 8 miles.  P&G were excited at lunch to get cell service again. And they learned that their luggage had finally made it to Peru in time for the trip home to Scotland.

Lunch time

Our porters checking cell phones

 

Just a few more miles until the final camp.  After our lunch, the skies began to clear.  Freddy said that he could almost guarantee clear views for tomorrow.  He wasn't wrong this time. 

Inca Trail: Into the Clouds

We rose at 5:30 a.m. on our last full day of hiking, wondering if G would be able to hike with his bad ankle.  We found out at breakfast that his ankle was feeling much better, and P said he was recovered from his altitude sickness.  

Pancake breakfast with chocolate syrup

We had completed the hardest climbs.  Today, we would alternate steep descents with flat.  We were camped at Runkuraquay  (3710 meters or 12,172 feet).  

 

For the first two nights of the trail, the tour groups were relatively spread out.  But on the final night, we would join the other 496 hikers and porters at one final camp.  Freddy warned that we might want to make sure we used the bathroom before leaving that morning's camp because things would be "messy" at the evening camp.

Freddy was unusual accurate with his predictions, so I made sure to use the facilities.  Even here, there was no toilet seat, and I needed to wade through used toilet paper on the floor, wipe down the toilet rim, and do my business quickly.  For those wondering, the used toilet paper was on the floor because the wastebasket was overflowing.  One does not flush toilet paper down the toilet in third world countries.  I would much rather plop my butt over a downed tree or the worst outhouse on the Appalachian Trail than repeat that morning's experience.

Why didn't I just use a downed tree?   Freddy didn't advise it.  Off the trail, poisonous snakes, spiders and insects were present.  Also with the numbers of hikers each day, the government wanted to concentrate the unsanitary conditions in the provided bathrooms, which were cleaned once per day by rangers.

Early morning view

 

After a steep descent, we were in the clouds and mist/drizzle for the entire day.

Porters in the Fog

Inca Ruins

Continuing to hike down, the vegetation began to change to jungle.

Inca Trail: Descent from Dead Woman's Pass

Feeling like we had done the hard work for the day, we started descending from Dead Woman's Pass just before noon.  Earlier in the day, Freddy made the strategic decision to delay lunch to our final camp down below in the valley.  

The path down started out at a gradual grade.

Then the weather started to change.  Clouds quickly covered the pass, and a light rain began to fall, creating slippery conditions.

The trail turned into an alternating set of gradual downward grades, which Freddy called "ramps," and steep stairs.

Serious Focus

In the above photo, you can see that G is hiking on his own with Freddy and P bringing up the rear.  G soon passed Julia and started attacking the stairs more aggressively.

We were almost to our camp just past this bridge when G went down hard and did not get back up, screaming in pain.  My first thought was that he had broken something and that it was G, not P, who was going to need to be evacuated.  

G was writhing in pain and grabbing at his ankle.  Freddy arrived with P within a few minutes of the fall.  Freddy and P helped to get G's shoe off and then nearby porters carried him to the closest camp, where they prepared an herb-infused bath to soak G's foot and ankle.  

Our own camp was just around the next bend, so Julia and I continued on, wondering what was going to happen if G was unable to complete the hike.  Paul showed up at our camp shortly thereafter ad informed us that this was a chronic problem for G, having sprained that ankle several times before.  On these prior occasions, G's recovery had been  fairly quick, but Paul was worried because the next day's hike was over ten miles--our longest day but over relatively flat to descending terrain.  

It was a somber afternoon.  By supper time, G was gingerly walking around with one shoe and one sock. He said that he felt much better after the soak.  G quickly dismissed the idea that he wasn't going to be able to finish the hike.  "I'll be fine tomorrow," he promised.  "I've dealt with this a bunch of times."

That night's camp was more spartan than the night before.  Our water came from upstream.  The toilets did not have seats, and it was pretty obvious from the smell that the discharge was downstream.  Some of the camps were right next to the toilet, and we were very glad that our porters had chosen a narrow, flat ledge further away.

Everyone was present for dinner.  P was feeling much better, and his appetite was back.  G was still hobbling around, but his spirits were high.  We were cautiously optimistic about the next day, which would be the final full day of hiking.

Three of our porters in background