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.
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| 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.
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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.
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| 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.
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| Lunch time |
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| Early morning view |
After a steep descent, we were in the clouds and mist/drizzle for the entire day.
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| Porters in the Fog |
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| Three of our porters in background |
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